Never On My Mind
by lifelesslyndsey
Summary: 'Forget about it Paul.'The order took hold. It wasn't instant; Paul's natural inclination to fight all orders wouldn't allow it to take hold in a snap. It crept over him instead, stripping away what choice he had as slow as honey. One minute life was all about her. The next, it wasn't. This is a story of how Paul imprinted. Again. Again. And again. PxB Some OOC, heed the warnings
1. Unforgettable Forgotten

**Chapter One – Unforgettable Forgotten**

**For·get **[fer-get], verb:

**1.**To cease or fail to remember;be unable to recall: _to forget someone's name._

**Prologue**

He never paid attention to Sam's imprint. Emily was great and all, but the actual act of imprinting...not so much. It was fraught with too much drama, tinged constantly with angst and regret. Jared and Kim, however, were another matter. Their imprinting had taken instantly, with nothing standing in their way. It had been, from the very moment, all rainbows and butterflies.

It made him wonder sometimes. Because for all that Jared never made a move, he _saw_ Kim. And Kim saw him; that was a well known fact now. No one knew it quite like Paul, though. Jared was stoic in his interest, like he was stoic in everything else. The man was a mask of cool iron; he showed nothing. But Paul saw it. He'd known Jared since before they could wipe their own asses. Their mothers were the best of friends. Jared's mom had baby sat Paul for years. It was sort of destined that they'd end up so close it bordered on bloodless brothers. Paul knew Jared just as well as Jared knew himself.

Jared adored Kim. From a distance that was. Paul hadn't quite understood it; Kim seemed so plain to him. Surely Jared deserved something more than plain? Than again, Paul was sure he saw Jared in a different light. That was his best friend, his brother; no one would ever really be good enough. Paul asked Jared of course._ 'What is it about her that has you making that stupid fucking face?' _

Jared had wiped the sappy expression off his face and laugh. _'I don't know. There's just something about her. I just...I don't know. But I'm going to marry her one day, Paul. Watch me. I will'. _

At that point, Paul punched him in the arm, called him a pussy, and told him to hit that shit already. As with any other time he'd said as much, Jared's eyes went a little darker, and his mouth fell into a frown._ 'It's not the right time,' _he said, in a voice the never really sounded like his own.

Paul hadn't understood then, but he did now.

_ Imprinting. _ If Sam had ever been given the chance to meet Emily sooner, he would have felt it. He would have known, just like Jared had always known that Kim was it for him. Even when he hadn't.

He had been so sure that Black would imprint on Swan. He was so fixated. He already looked at her like she hanged the fucking moon. He had the same sappy expression Jared had, before imprinting, before wolves and vampires. Just...innocent, unadulterated _want_.

He watched them a lot, and maybe that should have been his first clue. Looking back, he wondered what expression his face held. He watched them, under the order of Sam, eyes intent for danger. Black would be phasing soon; it was inevitable. The heat, the growth, the hunger, the anger; it was all there. Paul was glad. Maybe Embry would shut the fuck up already. He was pretty sick of the bitching and moaning.

Just thinking like that made him wince. Paul had been _third_ to phase. Jared had went before him, and Paul had been in Jacob's shoes; abandoned and confused. He knew without a doubt -courtesy of pack mind- that Jared went through the same thing Embry was currently going through. The gut eating guilt. Paul had forgiven him of course, not that there was much to forgive. You couldn't blame a man for things out of his control.

He thought that maybe it was the girl holding Jacob back. Jacob should have phased much sooner. He was of the Alpha line, after all. Paul wasn't nearly as freaked out by that as some of the others. Even if Black wanted to take the proverbial furry throne, he had a long way to go before he could even dream of taking down Sam. He could try, but Paul was sure nothing would come of it for some while. Sam had a solid year on them as a wolf, and several years as human.

Black was happy. The kid wore his emotions on his face. He'd built the girl back up from the pieces Sam found on the forest floor. That image had haunted Paul; it crept into his dreams, and resonated. It fueled his hate for leeches, oil to fire. The Cullen's might be tamed, but they only proved how much more dangerous that made them. Not all wounds left blood and scars. They'd all but killed the Swan Girl without ever setting teeth to skin. They were the worst kind of leeches, the kind that played _pretend_. Wolves in sheep's clothing would be the appropriate term, were the situation anything else.

The girl was better, but better was a relative term. Better than what? Dead? Black might have done a lot to put a smile on the girl's face, but it hardly looked like he was doing anything to put food in her damn mouth, or soul behind her eyes. She looked decayed, rotted from the inside out. But Jacob did make her smile.

That seemed important.

Paul should have seen the signs. But he didn't.

_ No one did._

**Saturday, March 11th. **

Three days, and Jacob was already pining. For the love of God, Paul wanted to go get the damn Swan girl so Jacob could imprint on her and fucking be done already. They had other things to worry about; like Quil and the leech sniffing around the edges of their land. The constant, never ending ache Black insisted on inflicting upon them all was beginning to wear everyone down. Paul got it, really he did, Jacob loved her blah blah blah. Paul didn't and he was a little tired of feeling like he did.

As it would turn out, Paul didn't need to go get the Swan girl. She delivered herself, smelling like anger and inexplicably Quil. Paul growled. Did she actively seek every potentially dangerous thing in a ten mile radius? Quil was days from phasing, and yet she had found him. The gray hair Charlie must have gotten since taking her in...Paul didn't pity the man.

"She shouldn't have been alone with Quil," Sam agreed quietly, watching her stomp up the shoddy path to the Black house. They air was peppered with the scent of a leech, and Quil was a danger in his own right. "The girl has a death wish. Come on."

Swan saw them, and wasted no time launching her tiny attack. She shoved Sam, little hands slamming against his chest. A death wish; Sam was right. "You. You did this! He didn't want this! He didn't want this with you and _your_-"

Want _this_? Who would want _this_? It made Paul see red. He pushed past Sam, towering over the girl. "What did he do? What did he _do_! What did he tell you?" Jacob Black; that boy just thought he was better than everyone. Didn't need to listen. Didn't need to obey. Didn't need to-

"Nothing! He tells me nothing because he's scared of you."

It was laughable. Jacob wasn't scared. He was _pissed_. He was pissed at her, and her pining over a leech. He was pissed and pining himself. It was laughable, and Paul laughed, head thrown back. He looked down at her, intent on telling her just exactly what she should be afraid of but the words didn't come. Because in that moment, Paul _saw_ Bella for the very first time.

It ripped through him, breaking him down only to rebuild him around her. His laughter and his sudden silence seemed to be enough to set her off. Death wish; Sam was right. She slapped him, the sound of her palm meeting his skin loud in his ears. The growl tore out of him before he could really stop it, accompanied by fear the if he didn't stop he would hurt her.

His imprint.

Sam, in all his infinite wisdom, was well versed now in how to stop the wolves from phasing. "Forget about it Paul. Don't even think about it. Let it go." He barked out the order, voice firm and insistent, and just like that...

_Forget about it, Paul. _

Paul hadn't been thinking about phasing.

_Don't even think about it. _

He'd been thinking about his imprint.

_Let it go._

The order took hold. It wasn't instant; Paul's natural inclination to fight all orders wouldn't allow it to take hold in a snap. It crept over him instead, stripping away what choice he had as slow as honey.

The wolf howled as the girl was rushed away. _She's with Embry_, Paul rationalized. _Embry could be trusted. _He watched her go for half a moment, enraptured, confused, angry, excited. He had his opinion about imprinting, but in that moment, he couldn't remember what they were. But he did know he wasn't safe for her, not with his emotions torn up every which way. While a very large part of him demanded he follow her, the better, saner, safer part planted his feet in the ground. There would be time, he thought (he was wrong). She was his forever now (so, damn wrong).

Something a little vicious, a lot petty, and very Paul curled up inside him. He turned to tell Jacob just exactly _what_ had happened when the Alpha order slipped fully in place.

_Just forget it Paul. _

And so he did.

**TBC**


	2. Admitted Fear

Chapter Two – When truth is what you fear.Fear [feer] – noun:

1. A distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is real or imagined; the feeling or condition of being afraid.

**Saturday, March 12****th**

_**Continued**_**. **

"The fuck are we all standing around here for?" he sneered, clenching his hands at his sides. Paul was itching to phase, to tear into the baby Alpha, to run. There was nothing like being the wolf, nothing quite like letting his anger have at him. A spring wind tore through Jacob's front yard, carrying with it, a fresh scent, blood and death. "Last time I checked, we had a job to do and it wasn't babysitting leech lovers."

Jacob snarled, but Sam intervened. "Spread out," he barked, his voice losing its human-edge as he prepared to phase. "We're not losing this bitch again."

And so they did, howling for Embry to follow. Phasing came as easy as breathing to Paul. Too easy, on occasion. Strong-willed with an edge of violence, Paul made a fantastically efficient wolf. But his temper and his bull-head meant he had far less control than his brothers.

As a human, Paul was _dangerous_ and it was a problem. As a wolf, he was _lethal_ and it was praised.

They didn't return to the Rez until the early hours of the morning. The sun had barely broke, amber-orange light spreading far across the skies. The damn bitch had given quite the chase. Paul had been the only one to get in a bite, and that had been chance. Blood coated his chin, throat and chest, sticky, thick and nearly black. He could feel it clinging to his teeth, and knew he looked like something out of a horror movie. The scent of it, the taste of it, it made him anxious. The hot-cold rush of adrenalin had yet to fade, and he was ready for a fight or a fuck or _something_.

"You can wash up at my house," Sam offered, slapping Paul on the back. "I'm going to go check on Quil. Let Emily know I'll be home soon." He was proud of course; Paul had gotten in a bite after all. But even feeling his teeth sink into that rock-hard flesh of the bitch's calf wasn't enough to set any of them at ease. She'd heal, and far too quickly for their liking.

Wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand, he grunted his thanks. Emily was up; most likely she hadn't slept, tinkering about in the kitchen. He slipped past her before she could spot him, she didn't need to see him like this.

Half-desperate to wash the smell of leech away - it was all he could smell, all he could taste - Paul pushed the bathroom door open without knocking. It was habit, but his assumption that the house was empty save for Emily and himself had been wrong. Bella Swan stood there, mouth falling open in surprise. Her hair was damp, curling up at the ends where she'd pulled them over her shoulder to brush.

Paul's eyes caught hers - so brown they were nearly black, like the earth after rain - and something in him shivered. It hit him like a gut-punch, shocked-shudder, cold rush straight to his bones. His ears rang, but his insides felt crushed, gritty, like broken glass beneath his feet. And then it was gone, just like that, but it left an ache in his stomach he didn't care for. She looked _haunted_. Like an upturned corpse, standing for inspection, empty eyes on his, rotting from the inside out. He'd never seen her look like this before, and he'd seen her look quite bad.

He blinked twice and when he opened his eyes, her hallowed, thousand-yard stare was gone. She was just the girl now, harpy tag-along of the baby Alpha. She who knew-too-much and cared-too-little (about herself). Bella Swan, the burden burdened.

He shook his head and scowled the thought away. She was _just_ the girl, nothing else.

Not to him anyway.

"Still here?" he asked, towering over her where he leaned against the door frame. Paul could hear her heart beat hard against her chest, and watched the slow roll of her throat as she swallowed. She was afraid, and rightly so. When he smiled, wide and bloody, she flinched.

Her eyes were wide, skimming down from his mouth to his chest. "Is that-"

"Leech blood," Paul confirmed, wondering why he didn't just leave. The less he had to see of the fucking leech lover, the better. But she looked like prey, and the wolf _wanted_. "What? You thought your Cullens were alone in these woods? 'Fraid not, peaches."

Her eyes narrowed as her mouth pulled into a frown. "I know that," she said, tugging at the sleeve of her shirt, nervously. She wouldn't look him in the face, but eyed the bloody mess that was the rest of him through the bathroom mirror "I _know_ that."

"Good." She didn't move, and neither did he. "We're not out to play tag, sugar. We're out for blood." The bathroom was small, and what air it held was hot and moist and smelled of her. He could smell it now, beneath the vampire's blood. She trembled, fingers curling over the sink so tight her knuckles turned white. She still looked like prey, and the wolf still _wanted_. "You scared of me?"

Her head dropped, eyes falling to her hands where they gripped the lip of the sink. "Yes," she whispered, nodding shakily. Honesty was a virtue.

The feral thing in him liked it when she trembled like that, mouth stumbling over easy words. It was the blood, the fight, the adrenalin; it had to be. Something took over him, a monster's auto-pilot, and he was shutting the bathroom door behind him before his brain could register what his wolf wanted here.

Crowding up behind her, he was careful not to _touch_. There were lines, lines Paul danced shamelessly, and this was one of them. He just wanted to _smell_ it, that fear of hers. He wanted to lick it off her fucking skin; salty sweat, sweet fear. He wanted a lot of things, but mostly he just wanted to scare her. Fear was addicting. It was half natural, and half a chemical reaction to himself. He was made to frighten, he with his sharp words and sharper teeth. She was made to fear. Swan was useless, but she shivered _so_ pretty. Like a broken little doe, easy pickings, just made for the slaughter. The wolf _wanted_.

"You should be," he whispered, leaning low. She held herself rigid, the scant inches between them bursting with heat and terror. "I'm a monster, peaches. But unlike your Cullens, I'm man enough to own it." Her eyes were on his in the mirror now, as he spoke. "Built like stone, but its skin gave like silk when I bit it. I nearly took its foot off, little girl."

Her lashes fluttered as she closed her eyes, nearly leaning back against him. Taken aback, he moved just in time to keep her from touching. "They're so fast," she breathed, opening her eyes again.

"We're faster," he assured her with a tight, quiet growl. Standing tall, he looked down. "They're monsters, built to kill. But us? The wolves? We're monsters built to kill _them_. We're faster, we're stronger. God-cut from cloth made to stand against them. We kill the killers, Bella Swan."

Her whole body shivered, a small sound escaping from the back of her throat. "Please stop." Just as he figured; she was soft for them, her Cullens. To Paul, they were worse than the typical blood suckers. Consummate actors; the Cullens were so far done on themselves they bought their own lies.

The bitter, salty scent hit him like a sweet sting. She was crying, crystal lines painting her pale face. He wanted to lick those too and that, if nothing else, assured him that the game was over, and he was broaching lines he couldn't trust himself not to cross. Reaching around her, he brushed one from her cheek, leaving a smear of tar-black blood across her skin. "You're kind of pretty when you're scared."

She scrambled out from between him and the counter, letting the door slam against the wall in her escape. The flak he was going to catch from not only Jake, but Sam was more than worth watching her run. He laughed, loud enough so that he might hear, as he licked her tear drop from his thumb.

Bella Swan. What a mess.

But not _his_ mess.

He peeled off his bloody and torn shorts, dropping them carelessly to the floor. The bathroom still smelt of her fear and her skin and her sweat. It made him hard, but then he might have already been. Adrenalin, fight or fuck, the scent of the leech, the scent of fear; it did things to him. Standing beneath the tepid spray of the shower, Paul watched the water swirl dark and murky down the drain, and put Bella Swan out of his mind.

**Thursday, March 16****th**

**Stu·pid **[stoo-pid, styoo-pid], adjective:

Annoying or irritating; troublesome. Turn that stupid radio off.

In a state of stupor; stupefied: stupid from fatigue.

A storm was brewing, ruthless and cruel. Wind whipped through his thick fur, and the waves washed away his massive paw prints as he made his way down the coast, towards the cliffs. He'd long since lost the scent, once the vampire had hit the water.

Looking up at the cliffs, it did not register what it was he was seeing until Jacob's cry echoed in his mind. _'That's Bella! Oh God, that's Bella.' _

_ 'The leech is still out there,' _Paul reminded them in a snarl, waves breaking against his chest as he shot through the water. White-heads crested against his muzzle, but he pushed on.

Jacob snarled. _'What are you doing? Fuck the leech! Go after Bella.' _It wasn't as if Jake would make it in time; he was still in the trees, following a false trail the tricky bitch had laid for them.

_ 'Don't need to,' _Paul shot back, wondering if he'd be faster as a human. Probably not; his wolf form simply had more power behind it. _'She's coming to me.' _

_ 'What? _ Sam phased in to join them, shock rocketing through him as he took in the scene through Paul's eyes and Jacobs memories. _'She wouldn't. It's a freaking hurricane out here! Has she ever even taken the dive before?" _

_ 'Of course she wouldn't,' _Jake snapped, pushing through the trees and toward the cliff. His determination to get to the girl was admirable and all, but he was headed the wrong way. He'd find her on the beach._ 'Damn it, Paul! She won't jump. She's not suic-" _

Her scream was barely heard over the howl of the wind, and Paul cut faster through the waters. Power or not, he'd have to do this in human form; there was no way he'd be able to pull her to shore as a wolf. _'Meet you on the beach, bitches!' _

Her body floated limply on the crashing waves as he reached her. Pulling her tiny, near-weightless body over his back, it was a fight to keep her head above the water. Swan was all but gone to the world, head lolling against his neck. She wasn't breathing, and that alone was enough cause for concern, but he could feel her heart fighting on, mismatched beats hammering against his back.

The shore couldn't come fast enough. As soon as his feet touched sand, he stretched her out on the beach, half her body still in the water. Waves crashed up around them, but it was enough for Paul to tip her head back, and force air down her throat. _Breathe_, he thought, and wondered how many times he'd have to remind her before she'd remember.

CPR was a vague concept to him, but he did the best he could. It was harder than it should have been; Paul didn't want to break her _more_. She was already so fucking frail, he was sure one solid push to her chest would break her damn ribs.

Lucky him, it didn't come to that. After his first puff of air, she coughed, spitting and sputtering up a lungful of ocean water. Her lashes fluttered, her eyes opened, and once again, Paul was floored at what he saw there.

_Devastation._

That haunted girl, the one from before. He could see her clearly now, soaking wet and blue-lipped. Her heart still hammered, steadier now. Paul could feel every single rib beneath his palm, where he'd curled it over her side. Where he couldn't let go.

Her mouth fell open in surprise, as she sucked in a long, shuddering breath. Paul was still bent over her, knees buried in the muddy shore as waves crested against his legs. They were close enough that he could feel the heat of her breath on his mouth, close enough to practically call it kissing.

He could have kissed her, then. She probably wouldn't have even remembered it. Of course, he didn't want to kiss her. It was Swan.

"Jacob?" He knew that she was too out of it to understand anything around her, but his name on her lips, it grated. After all it was Paul who'd pulled her selfish ass out of the fucking ocean.

Leaning forward, he didn't kiss her. He didn't want to. But he pressed his words into the corner of her mouth. "Guess again, birdie."

"_Paul_?" Swan jerked in surprise, turning her head sharply, so that their lips brushed. Paul jumped back, surprised, falling back onto his haunches.

"Got it in one." He looked up, and caught sight of Sam and Jacob breaking the tree line at the other end of the beach. "So, on a scale of one to yes, how likely is it that you have some sort of spinal cord injury or something?"

She let her head fall back to the sand, and shrugged her shoulders. As good a sign as anything. "I think I'm good."

If this was good, what the fuck was bad? Paul didn't ask. He reminded himself he didn't care. It was Swan, for fucks sake. "Hold on, girly." He slipped his hand beneath her knee and neck, and picked her up with little other warning.

She hissed, body locking up against him. Spine injury or no, she'd be sore, he guessed, from the post-fall whiplash. Hitching her up higher on his chest, he braced her better against his chest. "You're a dumb shit, you know?"

"I know." She didn't argue, eyes closing slowly. Her words were slurred and messy. He could smell the blood on her, and feel it where it pulsed sluggishly against the bend of his elbow.

_Concussion_. There were certainly plenty of rocks she could have cracked her walnut on, at the base of the cliff. _So stupid. _Paul shook her, "Hey dip shit, why don't you stay the fuck awake, huh? At least until I can dump your ass off on Jake." She didn't open her eyes, but her mouth pulled tight into a protesting frown. He shook her again. "Seriously, I will drop you and make you walk. I am not kidding."

She opened her eyes half-way and glared, but even that was weak. "M'tired."

"Well yeah," Paul reasoned, looking away from those dark eyes of hers. Something in them, beneath the vast emptiness that seemed to hide her so deeply, scared the shit out of him. "I think you'd have to be mighty fucking tired to take a short walk off a tall cliff. Tired sucks, I get it. But dead is probably a whole hell of a lot worse."

To that, she had no reply, which was probably worse than anything she could have said. Swan simply turned her head toward him, greedily leaching heat from his naked body. That part probably hadn't hit her though. From what he'd seen via the baby Alpha, Swan was sort of a prude. Either that or a virgin. Maybe both. She sort of smelled like a virgin, he thought. Whatever that meant. _Unclaimed_.

Speaking of baby Alpha, he and Sam had hightailed it on paw across the shore. Neither bothered to scout for civilians before they phased back. The hurricane was in full effect; only crazies would be out now. He looked down at Swan in his arms, and laughed.

"She's all yours," he declared, dumping her into Jacob's arms. "She busted her nugget on a rock or something; she's a little sluggish. Concussion for sure, and maybe, hypothermia," he added, as an afterthought. "Dumbshit."

"Paul!" Sam barked, but Swan snorted, reaching up to scrub her hand down her face.

"He's not wrong," she said, voice scratchy with sea water and screaming. "I think I can walk now."

He didn't put her down. Instead, Jacob squeezed her too hard as he fought the emotion of his face and out of his body. He wasn't in danger of phasing. No, the little prodigy had mastered his control faster than most. He just didn't want the girl to see it. "Why would you do that? How could you even think-"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Of course she didn't. "That's not what he asked you, Swan."

"Stop it Paul," Jacob snapped. "Bells-"

"I said I can walk," she protested, squirming in his arms. She looked far more alert than when Paul had first pulled her out, but no less tired for it.

Jacob didn't release her, hitching her up his chest instead. "Bella, I don't know-"

"Hey, if she thinks she can walk, let the girl walk," Paul interjected, flashing her a smile. "But maybe remind her that we're all bare-ass naked. So unless she wants front row tickets to this fucking sausage fest, she might want to stick to the balcony seats."

Jacob gave him a dirty glare, but didn't argue. "Yeah uh...we kind of rushed here. So uh..."

Swan nodded, and huffed. "Fine, whatever. But I'm okay, okay? I just want to sleep."

Jacob gave her a soft, pitying look. "Alright Bells. Let's just get you back to the house. I'll call your dad, tell him you can't drive in this weather. You can crash at my place-"

"As I said, she has a concussion," Paul cut in once more. Did no one ever fucking listen to him? "You cracked your skull girly. No sleeping for you."

Sam frowned, giving the girl a searching look. "Maybe we should get her to a doctor. If it's serious-"

"I'm fine." She squirmed again, but there was little she could do in the cage of Jacob's arms. "Really, I'm okay. I bumped my head, but Paul got me out-"

Yes, Paul did. "Yeah, and you weren't breathing. I had to do CPR," he added, for Sam and Jake's benefit. "I don't care what these two dip-shits do, but you have a concussion. You can barely keep your eyes open, your speech is all fucked up. I bet as soon as Jake sets you down, you puke. Are your ears ringing? Yeah, they are, aren't they?"

Sam sighed, and scratched at the back of her head. "Well, clearly she can't be left alone. You'll have to take her back to your place, Paul-"

Paul, Swan and Jacob both boggled at him, mouths falling open. "What?"

Sam gave them a blank look. "You know the most about this shit, apparently. So you get to babysit. Plus, you need to clean that cut on your thigh. You're bleeding all over the place." Paul looked down, and frowned. Huh, he was bleeding. Damn leech. "I need wolves on perimeter. This is the best chance for-"

Jacob cut Sam off with a quelling glare, eyes falling down to Swan, who was of course sleeping. Jake hadn't told her that the tricky nomad had been breaking treaty lines. He didn't think she needed the added stress, and having fished her out of the ocean, Paul was inclined to agree. Sam scowled at being silenced, but acceded.

Paul flicked Swan in the ear. "The fuck I just tell you? No sleeping. You go to sleep, you might not wake up." The words were pointed and heavy. _Is that what you want_, he wanted to ask. He didn't of course, because he didn't care. It was Swan. Freaking out over Swan was Jake's deal. "Look, I'm no one's babysitter. You can ditch her at my house if you want, but make Embry sit suicide watch."

Both Jake and Swan blanched at the _S_ word. Paul figured someone needed to call it like it was, and well, he'd always been the man to do so. Sam shook his head, looking just as tired as Swan, if possible. It did a little to quell Paul's desire to be an even bigger dick. Sam didn't need to deal with this shit too. "Embry's on the ass end of a sixteen hour patrol. He's not fit to watch a pot boil."

Yeah, Embry couldn't stay up to watch the girl not sleep. But there was Quil, or Jared. Or anyone, really, but him. "Look, it's easy. Don't let her sleep," Paul protested, but he could already see he'd lost the battle. The only consolation was that Jacob looked just as surly about it. Of course he couldn't stay behind and watch the girl. Oh no, the baby Alpha was too much of an asset to be left behind.

The house was dark when they arrived, and the yard was littered with tree branches and debris. He pried the door open against the wind, and led Jake inside. Sam had already phased back, to gather the troops or some shit. "You better call her dad," Paul said, waving vaguely at the kitchen phone. "Don't think he'd take too kindly to _me_ calling him."

"Right," Jacob said, lowering her to the floor with gentle ease. As Paul predicted, she puked on the floor almost instantly, and swayed so hard Jacob had to catch her.

Paul chuckled. "Don't think I'm cleaning that. Mop's in the closet Jake. Swan, you good to walk the fifteen feet it takes to get to my room or are you gonna get changed in the kitchen?" He laughed when she swayed, and walked back towards the door. "Need me to hold your hand?"

"Shut up," she grumbled, but leaned on him heavily. "Everything is blurry."

"Are you sure she doesn't need a doctor?" Jacob asked from the kitchen. "Bells, I think you need a doctor. We can go to the little clinic on the Rez-"

"No!" she snapped, to no one's surprise. "Really, I'm just...tired. It's not because I hit my head okay? I haven't been sleeping and I just..." She sucked in a long breath. "I don't want to talk about it. I'm okay, I promise."

Paul heard the phone being returned to the receiver. Jacob stepped into the hall and frowned at her. "Bells, you just jumped off a cliff-"

"But not for whatever reason you think, okay? I wasn't...I wasn't trying to kill myself. I don't _want_ to die." She paused, licking her lips slowly. "I just...I can't explain it, but Jake I promise I wasn't trying to kill myself. Really."

"Bells," Jacob said, quiet and rough. "I just want you to be okay."

"I am," she assured him, quick and easy. "Promise."

Swan was a filthy liar.

**TBC**


	3. Where The Truth Lies

**You Think We'd Remember. But I don't, and you don't.**

**Friday, March 17****th****,**

**de·stroy **[dih-stroi] – verb

1. To reduce (an object) to useless fragments, a useless form.

To put an end to; extinguish.

To kill; slay.

* * *

"Imprinted."

"Yes." Paul could hear the choke in Jacob's voice. It hurt him to say it, to spill out the words to the very last girl he thought deserved them. Bella Swan, love of his life, only...not. "On Leah."

No one had really seen that coming. But then, Thursday had been full of surprises. While Paul had been forced to play babysitter-cum-therapist, the Pack had been busy. Leah freaking Clearwater joined the ranks and Old Harry kicked the bucket.

Like he said. Thursday? Full of surprises.

"Leah." Swan couldn't do more than simply echo Black, it would seem. Paul could have felt bad for eavesdropping, except he didn't. Guilt seemed pointless; he'd see this scene later when he phased with Black anyway. Plus, they were standing in his living room. Privacy was more of an abstract concept, these days. "Leah Clearwater."

"Yeah." Paul watched Jacob drop his head into his hands, and heave a great sigh. They were seated at his busted-up kitchen table, both with eyes only for the old oak top. Embry had reassembled that old thing more times than Paul could count. The three foot distance between Swan and Jacob felt like a mile, even to Paul. "The first time she phased, I saw her. I don't know what happened. I mean, I've seen her-"

"Wasn't the right time," Swan murmured, and it made Paul's gut clench. Those were nearly the same words Jared had said about Kim. "Jacob, I..." She swallowed, words dying in her mouth. Shoving up from the table, Swan's chair scraped loudly against the old wood floors. "I have to go. You should go and...and comfort Leah. She needs you right now. Charlie said Harry was really close to his daughter. I can't imagine how she's handling it all."

"Wait!" Jacob jumped up, following Swan to the door. His bare feet thundered against the old floor boards as he chased after her. "Wait. You'll be there, right? At Harry's funeral. I'll see you?"

"I don't think... Jake...just... just go be with Leah." Paul heard her shudder, the shake in her breath as loud to him as the wind whipping through the trees. If Paul heard it, he doubted Jake hadn't. He'd give her credit though, for holding it together like she was. There were so many cracks and chips in her, it was a miracle she didn't fly apart. "I'll be there. Charlie needs me." _But you don't_; Paul heard it, even if Jacob didn't. The boy could be dense.

He was a fool to miss it; she all but screamed it in her silence.

"And I'll see you?" Black was persistent. Couldn't he just let her go? She was near to tears, even Paul could see that and he wasn't even looking at her. He was forced to hide in his own damn bathroom, watching from the reflection in the mirror. Opened half way, it had the perfect angle to see directly into the kitchen. But they were at the door now, offering him no view.

Swallowing, Swan cleared her throat. "I suppose you will."

"Bells..."

"Don't, Jake." She spoke in a whisper, scraped up raw from her throat. It sounded rotted and decayed. Just like she'd been before. "I'm...it wasn't ever like that between us anyway." It came out a little broken, unsure, and Paul wondered if maybe it wasn't _quite_ the truth she wanted it to be.

"It was for me." And it was. Paul had known that, he'd felt that much from Jacob every time he'd phased. It wasn't any less with the imprint. Paul had felt Jacob's love for Bella, even the moment Jacob had imprinted on the new little She-Wolf. It had just suddenly taken a back seat to Leah.

He wondered if Jacob used to notice Leah, before it was the _right time_.

He was pretty sure he knew the answer.

He knew Swan was a mess right now; what girl wouldn't be? Still, Paul had no idea why he cared. He had no desire, he figured, to see a Leah-Reincarnate, especially one who knew their secrets. He'd seen what something so simple as a woman scorned could do to his pack. Leah had wreaked havoc on Sam, without ever so much as looking at him. Bella would do the same; Jacob would not let her go so easy, if he thought she was hurting. And she was.

She'd ruin them all.

He waited 'til Jacob disappeared through the house, back door slamming shut followed by the sound of wood smashed against wood. Porch-rail, Paul assumed. It was half-broke anyway.

_Story of their lives. _

It scared Swan though; her shoulders tensed and she walked a little faster, her tears already staining her pale face. "Jake..." she rasped, as her heart beat far too fast, like a little humming bird. That's what she reminded him of; a little fallen bird. Even after they were healed, they still feared flying. From where he stood, he could see her hands trembling, making her keys jingle. It wasn't hard to cut her off, just a few strides and Paul was there, sandwiching her between him and her truck.

"Hand over the keys, Swan." She jerked, keys falling to the mud in surprise. He had them in his hand before she could even think to swoop down and pick them up. When she looked up, it hit him like a punch to the chest. Everything seemed to shatter before his eyes and when it returned, all he saw was Bella Swan, the pathetic broken mess everyone seemed keen to leave behind. She looked like she knew it too; she looked resigned. _Rotting from the inside out_. It felt so familiar, so strangely reminiscent, but he couldn't put his finger on the sense of dejá vu.

It must not have been all that important. He let it go.

"Passenger seat, Swan. You're not fit to drive." She'd kill herself, but hey, maybe that was the plan.

"I'm _fine_." The vehemence in her voice didn't surprise him, but it didn't make his blood boil like it used to. Bella was just a fighter; Paul could admire that. At least, he could admire it now. It was just sort of annoying when she was fighting _against_ him. She'd slapped him, for fucks sake. He had just been doing his job. Sure he might have flipped his own shit, but she hadn't been much better. It was a well-known fact there was no love lost between Bella and he. She reached for the keys fruitlessly, lip trembling when he held them above her head. He might not have been the tallest wolf in the Pack, but he was hardly short. "Paul."

"Bella." Giving the passenger seat a pointed look, he crossed his arms over his chest. "Get your skinny ass in the passenger seat, Swan. You're crying, for fucks sake." Tears made him awkward, stilted. Crying girls were not his thing. Still, he wasn't a total asshole. His mother raised him better than that.

"No, I'm not." She seemed surprised when she reached for her cheek and found it wet. It was all the more reason he wouldn't let her drive. "Oh."

"Passenger seat."

That time, she listened. He climbed into the driver side, and stared wordlessly at her until she put her damn seat belt on. Reckless; she was so fucking _reckless_. Vampires, werewolves, piece of shit trucks. Did she have no sense of self-preservation? He'd seen lemmings with better foresight.

He was thankful for her silence. He had no idea what the fuck he should say. The tears never quite stopped coming, streaming down her face. Paul wondered if she knew she was still crying, but he thought that maybe she'd been crying on the inside for so long, the physical manifestation of tears was just lost on her.

Thoughts like that made his stomach clench. He didn't know her, didn't know what to do with her. And Jake, well, he wasn't fit to help the girl. And boy, did she need help. He just really, really wished she'd stop crying.

But, as his mother used to say, _if wishes were fishes, the whole world would feast._

The Chief wasn't home when he pulled her beast of a truck into the drive way, but Paul hadn't expected any different. He'd seen the cruiser parked at the Clearwater's house, after all. He sort of suspected Charlie wouldn't be leaving the Rez for a while.

Which left Swan alone, of course.

He tucked the keys into Swan's palm and watched her fumble for the door handle. "Thanks, I guess."

"Such gratitude." He was baiting her, and not even with any particular skill. He just wanted to get a rise out of her, something other than this hollow silence. It had no effect.

_ Dying, decaying, rotting from the inside out._

"I'm going in now." The clunky door swung open, spitting out a cringe-worthy creak. She elaborated when he made no effort to move. "In the house."

"I hadn't realized there were that many other options." Even as he said it, his eyes flickered to the forest. There were so many options. She'd proven her creativity in finding them by jumping off a cliff. Paul really wouldn't put anything past her.

"Right." She nodded slowly, eyes turning vacant. "Right. No options."

Leaning against Swan's front fender, he watched her make her way to the door, keys jingling as she forced the key into the lock with shaking hands. Swan spared him no second glance as she shut the door behind her, dead bolt sliding shut with a sharp click.

It wasn't the only thing to click. Something inside him slid into place, a wall, an injunction, an alpha command. '_Just forget it Paul. Don't even think about it.'_

He let it go.

Slipping around to the back of her house, he'd only just hit the tree line when he heard it; a gut-wrenching sob, following by the shattering of glass, and more cries. Wet, choking cries that shook him down to his very bones. He'd give credit where credit was deserved; she'd certainly kept her shit together until there was no one there to watch. Swan was falling apart up there, alone in her room. Paul forgot what it was to be well and truly alone; loneliness was in an impossibility in his world. He didn't think he cared for it much, though.

He tugged his shorts off, securing them to his ankle with the short bungee cord he kept in his pocket. Phasing had always come unnaturally easy, and he slipped into his wolf-skin as easily as sliding beneath an old, comfortable blanket.

Unsurprisingly, he wasn't alone.

_ 'Oh, God.' _

Swan crying wasn't enough? Now he had to deal with Jake?He was burdened with melodramatic assholes. That was his lot in life_. _He snorted, hot breath ruffling the underbrush where he laid. The forest ground was cold and damp, but it felt good against the hot coat of his wolf. No doubt, he'd end up belly up by the end of the night like some house pup. It always seemed to happen, like a habit he couldn't kick. Wasn't any sense in being embarrassed though; it wasn't as if he could control it.

_'Nope, just Paul.'_

_ 'Is that Bella?'_

No, it's Aretha-fucking-Franklin, you moron, Paul didn't say. He thought it though, so Jake heard it. Not that either one of then acknowledged it, because really, Paul thought a lot of things that just didn't merit any kind of response. _'Yeah, Jake,'_ he sighed, wriggling down into the dirt. He laid his chin onto his crossed paws, and ignored Jake's resonating pang of hurt. Melodramatic assholes.

_'I have the Forks patrol tonight,' _Jake thought, with pained resignation._ 'I was going to grab a ride with Bella. But then...'_

Paul knew that too, but those plans had been made before this morning, before Jake's imprint, hell, before Swan decided to take a stroll into the ocean blue. _'I know. I've got it.'_

Jake's answering sigh of relief was felt, rather than was harder to mentally sigh then you would have thought._ 'When's your next shift? I'll cover it for you.'_

Paul couldn't help but smirk, the bastard grin he was known for. Broken hearts and spurned love aside, the whole situation worked out rather well for him, all told. _'Sam had me down for the weekend Mountain run.' _Two wolves, every week, took to the Olympic mountain range to scout for nomads. This weekend was Paul's.

_ 'Shit.' _Jacob's run had been last weekend. No wolf in his right mind would be eager to pull a double. It was exhausting, and that was if you _didn't_ run into a vampire. And given their luck lately, it seemed unlikely that they wouldn't.

Snorting again, Paul rolled his eyes. _'Whatever. Sam will probably let you take Leah. He's fucking ecstatic you imprinted on her. The last thing we needed was her moping all up in our minds. Can you imagine the damage she could have done?' _Considering the damage she managed to do without ever being a wolf, Paul was sort of ecstatic Jacob imprinted on the frigid bitch too.

_ 'Hey,' _Jake snapped, quick to defend what was his. Apparently not only were they destined to be wolves, but Neanderthals as well. Somehow, Paul didn't think Leah would appreciate the caveman act. _'She was hurt. Sam fucked her over by leaving her without so much as an explanation, only to end up with her cousin. No one deserves that kind of heartbreak, no matter whose fault it isn't. She had every right to hurt.' _Funny, before Leah, Jacob had been very much Team Sam in the epic saga of Clearwater and Uley.

Eying the upstairs window of the Swan residence, however, Paul had to agree with Jake. _"Yeah, she does."_ Swan's cries melted into a pained whimper. _'Get the fuck out of here, Jake.'_

Jake didn't, so Paul simply ignored him.

When the sun hit the horizon behind the thick haze of clouds, Paul pushed up off the ground and headed out for his borrowed patrol. Forks was small, the entire circumference taking no more than half an hour to circle. He did it twice, nose to the ground, sniffing for anything unusual. It yielded nothing, just endless miles of damp, green earth. When he returned to the woods behind the Swan house, he was surprised to find Swan standing in the back yard, eyes pinned to the forest. It was dark, nothing but moonlight filtered through dark clouds.

"I know you're out there," she murmured, every word spilled out scarcely above a whisper. He started; could she see him? No, no it was too dark, and he was too well hidden. She was talking to someone else. "I know you're coming for me. I can feel it every time you're near. I don't know what you're hiding from; I don't know why you just don't come for me."

A shiver ran through Paul. Why would he come for her? She couldn't be talking to him.

Could she?

"...and I want you to know that I'm ready for you. I'm waiting; I'm _begging_. Just...just end it now, before I get the courage to do it myself. I can't keep going on like this. I want to die." Horror flooded his veins as she uttered every sentence. A little of it was even his own, though Jacob certainly owned the majority stock . "I know you're out there, Victoria and...and I just wanted you to know that you can have me. If you don't kill me soon well...I can't live like this. Take your chance before I take it from you."

_'Bella...'_ Jacob's voice cut through Paul's mind like a knife, sorrow scarring a path through his own conflicted emotions. _'I should-'_

_'You've done enough,'_ Paul snapped, watching Swan make her way back into the house, the scent of blood trailing behind her. Her left hand was adorned in a fresh white bandage. He wondered what she'd done._ 'There's nothing you can do.'_

_ 'I can be there for her! She needs me!'_

He snorted._ 'She doesn't need to be reminded that you're not hers anymore. She's lost her claim. The imprint is still new; you're too tied up in Clearwater. Call her if you want, but if you can't tear yourself away from Leah for more five goddamn minutes, stay away from her.'_

Paul really had no right to tell Jacob what to do when it came to the Swan girl. Jacob seemed to listen anyway.

Two days passed and Paul didn't think of Bella Swan. There was nothing to think of. Occasional thoughts fluttered through his mind, belonging not to him but to Jacob. Bella Swan was little more than a headache for him, a nagging worry that this just wouldn't end well. The last thing they needed was another Leah.

_'I resent that.'_

Paul huffed. He didn't give a shit what Leah resented. He knew she'd been hurt, but she hadn't suffered alone for it, for fucks sake. And she got her happily ever after. That was more than Swan could say.

_ 'What do you care?'_

How he got stuck on Clearwater Babysitting Duty was beyond him. But hey, at least it wasn't patrols. He resisted the urge to snap his teeth at her. Attacking Leah probably wouldn't help her get acclimated to her wolf. _'Are you not the least bit guilty?'_

_'It isn't my fault Jacob imprinted.'_ The thought was tight, uncomfortable even. Paul could only assume her lack of remorse had something to do with Jacob's excess guilt. _'Nor is it mine.'_

_'It wasn't Sam or Emily's fault either, but you certainly had no problem blaming them.'_

_'I didn't know!'_ she growled, and Paul knew he'd hear it later. Poor Leah was upset, boo-fucking-hoo; Paul didn't give a shit. He didn't think Leah deserved the kid-glove treatment. She wanted to be treated like the rest of the pack, well fuck, Paul was happy to do it. So yeah, Paul was going to hear it later. Whether from Sam or Jacob was to be determined.

Stalking across the soft, mossy forest floor, he circled her like prey. _'Would knowing have made it hurt less? Would it have made Sam leaving you any different? He still wouldn't be yours. And beyond that, had you known that he left you because of the imprint, you would have been faced with the fact that you were so wrong for Sam, even the Gods agreed.'_

Leah's head dropped but her hackles rose. _"Don't make me feel bad for Jacob. Just don't. He's mine. Even the Gods agree." _His words were thrown back at him with a snarl._ 'If it wasn't for Jake, I don't know what I would do. Please don't try and make me feel bad for loving him.'_

Reminding himself that her father had just died, and she had only just found out she was a werewolf, he backed off, if only physically. _'How can you love him just like that? Did you even notice him before?'_

He caught the little rush of adrenalin and shame, the perfect cocktail for embarrassment. _'Yes,' _she admitted, leaping over a fallen tree._ 'Yeah, I did. You know that I was friends with Bec and Rach. So I saw a lot of Jake, and yeah...I noticed him.' _Images of a young Jacob flashed through his mind, all perfect smiles, and boisterous laughter. Leah _had_ noticed Jake. Somehow, Paul wasn't surprised.

_'How can you just love him?'_

_ 'Because I can,'_ she answered boldly. _'Because I'm allowed. Because I want to. That's what imprinting is.'_

_ 'No,'_ he snarled, clawing at the dirt beneath his palms._ 'No it's not. An imprint is a moment, Clearwater. It's one single moment where two soul-mates meet. You can't just look at someone and love them. You have to make that choice.'_

She lifted her head, and sat primly before him. _'Then I chose to love Jacob.'_

_ 'Easy as that?' _Nothing could be that easy, surely?

Leah cocked her head to the side and gave him the closest thing she could to a shrug as a wolf. _'Not everything has to be a fight, Paul.'_

That was rich, coming from her._ 'If it's not worth fighting for, it's not worth my time.'_

_ 'That's you,' _Leah conceded._ 'Look, I never want to talk about this again, but...I suspect imprinting is different for everyone. Sam needed someone strong and levelheaded. I'm neither. But Emily, she's made of iron. He needed that. He needed someone to keep him grounded. Jared needed something simple in his life, you know? Something easy as breathing that would suit his own quiet demeanor. Ain't no better girl for him than Kim; they can just sit and stare at each other for hours and it's never weird. It's them. Me? I needed...' _She sucked in a long breath, and huffed._ 'I don't know what Jacob needed, but I just needed someone to love me.'_

Paul has an odd thought, and turns to look at Leah_. "You know, Jacob saw you before you phased. He saw you plenty. Leah, I don't think Jake imprinted on you. I think you imprinted on him."_

A flicker of surprise and doubt shifted through him. "_That...that doesn't mean Jacob loves me less."_ He didn't point out that he could tell she didn't quite believe it. After all, what choice did the imprint have? _"No. The imprint is the one with the choice."_

Paul really couldn't decide what was worse; to be imprinted upon, or to imprint. He wasn't against the process exactly; he had seen how happy Sam and Jared were with their women. Leah would be no different. The imprints were happy too, of course. _"Then how do you feel about having your choice stripped away?"_

Leah shook her head. _"You know what? It doesn't matter. We were still made for each other. I mean is it so strange to think that the true Alpha would end up with the very first female wolf? It makes sense."_

_ "You realize you're agreeing that imprinting is for breeding?" _he replied, smirking inwardly. He was being difficult, for the sole purpose of being difficult. Paul wasn't really against imprinting, in fact...well. He wasn't against it.

Leah sent the emotional equivalent of a scowl through the link. _"No one likes a lonely, jealous loser, Paul. If the Gods made you a mate, she'd have to be a real piece of work to put up with your personal brand of shit. Maybe she'll be the kind of chick that waits to fuck until marriage."_

The insult bounced off of him effortlessly. He was neither lonely nor jealous. The loser thing was still kind of up in the air, but if he was a loser, so was the rest of the pack. They all pretty much had the same prospects; _none_.

But considering he had the same number of prospects before he went wolf, it didn't really bother him. Sure, the others were kind of fucked. Sam was totally going places (the guy could have been a doctor or a lawyer, instead he's a babysitter and even that's just temporary), and Embry was doubly fucked because he couldn't even tell his mother. Quil, well, he was probably alright. He was never leaving the Rez anyway, and hell, he never really had the desire to. Same went for Jacob. He'd be taking care of Billy 'til the day the old man died. Everyone knew his two fucks for sisters had long since flown the coop, leaving their little brother to waste his life wiping ass.

_"You're a dick."_

Flashing his teeth, Paul's smile was more of a snarl than anything else. _"And ain't nothing gonna change me, babe."_

**TBC**


	4. The Problem Is You

**You can't run from a problem, especially when that problem is you. **

March 18th, Saturday. 

**Rage** [rayje] – noun, verb

angry fury; violent anger;

a fit of violent anger

* * *

The first time Paul was even remotely aware of what was happening was the fourth time he saw her since that fateful Saturday. Why that particular time was any different than the others would remain a mystery, but in the end it wouldn't matter. He wouldn't remember. He never did.

Hehadn't been surprised to see her there. He knew the weight of Black's imprint was sitting heavily on her shoulders as was her father's grief, and the death of Harry. It was a bad day to be Bella Swan. She looked like a girl who'd given up.

His patrols started that evening; he should have been home sleeping. He'd done his duty, paid his respects to a good man lost, and his bed was calling his damn name. But he couldn't leave, not after he'd found her, tucked away on the porch swing, hugging her knees to her chest. It left the long expanse of her legs exposed. He could see both of her bare thighs and a flash of the cotton fabric of her panties could be seen where leg melted into ass. Paul didn't tell her; he wasn't one to pass up a free show. She was a skinny shit, but she had _fantastic_ legs.

"Something tells me you're not just mourning the old man." He stood in the doorway, peering at her where she was tucked up on the swing. Tension shot through her, body curling tighter around her knees. Again, it wasn't a surprise. "Why come at all?" He wondered why she'd torture herself like this. It was obvious she was hurting. He had no patience for masochists.

And then she looked up, distrust and vehemence bright in her eyes. Paul froze, breath sucked from his chest in one hard _woosh_. The world didn't realign itself as it had for Sam. He didn't feel reborn with a new purpose as Jared had. He lacked the sudden sense of urgent belonging that Leah and Jake had all but bled into the Pack Mind.

But there was no denying the sudden sense of _completeness_ that burst in him.

Dear God. Bella Swan made him feel _complete_. Paul was sort of horrified by the cliché.

_Why now? Not now. Not now. Not now. Now. Now. Now. _

"Jacob asked. My dad needed me." Her answer was bland and empty. She was with neither her father nor Black. "What do you want, Paul?"

Paul had imprinted on Bella. _Bella Swan. _

It scared the ever loving shit out of him, the onslaught of _demand_. Paul didn't felt like a man rebuilt, he felt like a man torn apart. His wolf howled clawing its way close to the surface. It seemed more violent than it should have, considering this was its imprint. It wanted her, _he_ wanted her. He was tired of being denied. She was his, why couldn't he have her? So long, he'd waited _so long_, but that wasn't right...he'd only just...hadn't he? Wasn't... Why hadn't-

It occurred to Paul, vaguely and in the back of his mind, that something wasn't right about the imprint. He'd seen her before; he'd looked into her eyes. So why now? _Not now,_ the wolf snarled. _Not now! Always. Always. Always. _

It was too close, too close to the skin. Paul couldn't help but act as he always did when the wolf took control. He was scared; of her, for her, by her. He could not be imprinted on Bella Swan. Leah's words came back to him; _a real piece of work_. Bella Swan was that and more. She was a fucking mess. His mess, apparently, and he had no idea what to do. So Paul did what he always did when he was unsure. He was rude. He was abrasive. He was rough.

In short, he was _Paul_.

Behind the haze of terror and thrill, he was glad the imprint hadn't changed that. He'd be damned if he turned into some sort of fluffy, sappy, bullshit version of himself. Emboldened, Paul took heart in Leah's words. Any imprint of his would be a real piece of work. She'd have to be. Swan needed to toughen up, and not just for Paul. For herself.

Paul could do that.

Dropping himself down hard on the swing, Paul smirked when she flailed, hands flying to the arm rest. He kicked his feet against the wood of the porch and sent them swaying. "You see Jake and Leah, yet?"

"Yeah." Her voice cracked, and she cleared it roughly, pressing her chin back into her knees. She'd put her back to the arm of the swing to brace herself better, offering him an eyeful with just a tilt of the head. She was wearing boy-shorts, soft gray and oddly enticing. He stared, but she didn't notice, too busy hiding her face in her knees. "Yeah. They look..." She swallowed hard, whole body shuddering with the force of it. She sounded like she was spitting out acid and not pretty little words. "They look happy. She's very beautiful."

"That's a word for it." He stretched his legs out before him, keeping the swing going. "_You're_ not happy." He doubted she needed the reminded, but he also doubted anyone had yet found the balls to say it. "Not looking too hot right now either."_ Hollow, rotting_; she looked worse than she had before. Strung out and half-dead, clinging to the last shreds of her goddamn sanity and wrapped up in a sensible black dress bought for the occasion.

"I'm overjoyed," She replied dryly, clenching her fingers around the hem of her dress at the knees. "I mean, that's what you're supposed to feel at funerals, right? Put on my best dress and everything."

Paul laughed a gruff sort of grunt, but a laugh all the same. She had a sense of humor, at least there was that. "This isn't a funeral, birdie. This is a _celebration_. A memorial of a great man lost. But here you are, sitting around crying about your boyfriend. Or not, in Jake's case." Sulking; she was sulking. Wasn't she always? And worse, everyone let her. She was like a child; she wouldn't stop doing what she knew was wrong until someone stopped and _told_ her it was wrong. And no one had; they'd let her dance solo at her pity party for far too long.

"Well excuse me for forgetting my party hat." She ran a nervous hand through her hair. "I'm going home."

Paul stopped her, pushing the swing just on the side of too-fast. "You're not going anywhere for a while." He jutted his chin toward the driveway, at her father's patrol car. Tipping his bottle back against his lips, he took a long, slow drink. "No one's leaving. Too drunk celebrating."

"Crap." Her eyes glistened, and she shut them furiously. "I don't...I don't have anywhere..." "Crap." She looked so close to tears, so strung together by bits and pieces of fraying, forced calm. It was a bad day to be Bella Swan, but there she was, gritting her teeth and bearing it.

Didn't she know she didn't have to? That it was okay to freak out every once in a while? Hell, Paul scheduled a nice violent freak out about three times a week. Sometimes you just had to let shit _go_.

Relax. Unwind. Reboot. Vent.

"You said that already." Paul nudged her with his bottle. "So why don't you forget about it for a night, and have a drink."

"_What_?"

"When you can't beat them, join them." He nudged the bottle at her again, letting it go so she was forced to grab it. "Unless you're too good to drink," he baited, watching her hands tremble. "You too good for us Swan? It's not exactly champagne. It's not even beer-"

"Screw you." She palmed the bottle, lifting it up and drinking it deeply, quickly. Paul knew the sensation, had long since come to savor it. Liquid fire burned her throat, searing a path straight down to her belly. He knew she'd be feeling it. The shit burned _his_ throat, and very little could do that. She'd all but _inhaled_ it.

"Not even beer," he finished, smirking as she hacked and sputtered, hand flying to her chest. "Moonshine actually; grain alcohol." He took the bottle back, lifting it up into the thin shaft of light exposed through living room window to see how much she'd drank. Half the bottle, by the look of it. "You're too easy. It's fucking pathetic. How can anyone let themselves be manipulated like that?"_ How can you leave yourself so open to be hurt like that?_

Her wide-eyed, defeated expression screamed at him. He'd hit a sore spot, it would seem. At least she understood she had a problem. You couldn't paint a target on your heart and be upset when someone hit it. She needed thicker skin. "You're a...a _dick_."

"Oooh the little birdie's busting out the bad words. I'm positively _hurt, _B." He took another drink from the moonshine without as much as a wince, licking his lips when he was finished. "Can't stay here; the house is full. And I reckon you don't want to stay at Jake's." He knew where she could stay. He had a bed with their name on it.

"Why not?"

"That's where Leah's staying." She didn't need to see them together at all, let alone see them together when no one else was looking. It was disgusting, and it would only serve to hurt her more. The worst of it was that Leah and Jacob would never be so malicious as to do anything intentionally. Nature, the unnatural nature of imprinting, was simply against them. And Bella? Bella would walk into it blindly, thinking she understood, but she had no idea. She had _no idea_. Surely, if he could do nothing else, he could protect her from that. From herself.

Her own worst enemy, as it were. Paul could understand that.

"Oh."

"Hell, I think they're already there." He smirked again, just enough to show teeth. It was cocky, and hard, and would grate at her nerves just enough to rile her. She needed that; needed to feel something besides hurt even if it was only anger. Anger was empowering; Paul knew that better than almost anyone. "Emily and Sam didn't leave his house for three whole days. Werewolf stamina you know? I bet Jake and Leah can go for even long-"

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, turning to look at him fully. He could smell fear on her, and reigned himself back. She didn't need to fear him.

"Because you think you _know." _His jaw ticked, pretty white teeth grinding in a grimace. "But you don't. You don't have any idea what it is to imprint."

"I know that he's not mine. That's enough."

Pinning her with an intense, inscrutable expression, he shook his head, smirk never leaving his cold face. "You say that now, but you don't know. You don't know what it will be like to look at them, and seem them with only eyes for each other, like nothing else matters in the world, because it doesn't. Jake didn't just imprint on Leah, Leah imprinted on _Jake_. You think Sam and Emily are fucking disgusting, you don't even know. I've phased with Jake and Leah. I can hardly fucking stand it."

"I don't think that will be a problem." Her words ate at him. What did she mean? "I don't think I'll be back. I'm...I'm leaving."

It was clear she didn't just mean the Rez. She meant Forks.

The cold, unending panic that filled him made the wolf howl in vehement protest. _No, not again, not this time, no, don't let her go, can't let her go-_

"You're the most selfish bitch I've ever met." His words were as flat as a pancake, delivered with no inflection, no emotion. It was all he could do from taking her by the shoulders and shaking some sense into her. Running solved nothing. Especially when the problem was _you_.

Her eyes grew wide as her face flushed a brilliant apple red. "Excuse me? You know what? Screw you. I don't need to sit here, and let you say things...say things you know will hurt me. What the hell did I ever do to you?"

He gritted his teeth and looked her dead in the eye as he spoke all the things she needed to hear but no one would tell her. "You act like no one fucking understands you. Like you're the only person to ever lose someone. Your father just lost his _best friend_," Paul informed her, wondering how she could have forgotten. "Don't you think he knows what you're going through? Loss. Hell, do you think your pain right now can even compare to his? You'll still see Jake. Sure, it won't be the same, but someday...it could be okay. Leah's not so bad herself, and as much as I hate to fly her flag, she understands what you're going through right now, better than anyone you'll find. She's been there, birdie. People hurt. Chief ain't gonna see Harry ever again. But you think your boo-boo is the worst? I repeat: Selfish. Bitch."

"Go fuck yourself," she spat, with as much venom as he'd ever seen in her. "I don't need to sit here and let you kick me while I'm..." _Down_, she didn't say, like that might be admitting something he already knew. Her eyes flickered and her face changed, the irritable scowl melting away for a cold, calculating look. A look Paul was familiar. He often saw it in the mirror. It was the face of someone who was looking for cracks, for wounds to pick at, for chinks in the armor.

She wanted to hurt him back.

He wanted her to. He wanted her to want to. He wanted her to feel something, anything, but _alone_.

She let one knee drop down, and propped her chin on the other. It stretched her dress taught, high on her thighs, and if he stared, well, it couldn't be helped. _Fantastic_ legs. "I don't need to sit here and take this crap from you. I don't need you to tell me I'm pathetic, or worthless. I _know_ what I am." _Everything,_ Paul's wolf howled. _She's everything._ "And I know what you are. You're just as pathetic as me. But we're different, because I'm just pathetic, and you're pathetic _and_ a bully."

His eyes narrowed, glinting dangerously and he caught the shiver race up his spine and across his skin. He shook it off, but his spine stayed stiff; he didn't really want to scare her. Just scare some sense into her. "Spare me the Public Service Announcement, Bella Swan. I just tell it like it is."

She licked her lips and he found her smiling, or something akin to a smile anyway. It looked wrong on her face, slow-stretched and half-cocked. Slurred. Shit. Moonshine hit fast. "Does it make you feel good, Paul?"

His jaw ticked again, and he sat up a little straighter, prepared for her assault. She'd go for the worst, and he'd let her. She needed to vent, and he'd let her. Of course, that did not mean, under any circumstances, that he'd take it lying down. "Birdie-"

"No." She cut him off boldly, lifting her chin high as she yanked the bottle of moonshine from his hands. "No, I want to know. Does it make you feel good to sit here and cut me down? Does it do it for you? Want to see me cry? I could cry for you. Bet you'd love that. Would that get you hot? Want to tell me that I'm ugly some more, maybe remind me how worthless, pathetic and alone I am so you don't have to think about how Sam has Emily, and Jacob has Leah, and Jared has Kim and you have _no on_e but your own, sad fuck of a self? God, would a girl even put up with you if it wasn't for an imprint? I certainly wouldn't and I dated a _vampire_. You're a jerk."

Better than he'd expected; she'd managed to hit a nerve. She dated a vampire, but she didn't want him. The portion of his brain that controlled all sensibility and logic argued that this was not so unreasonable. She didn't know him and they'd hardly shared a friendly word. Paul might have fished her selfish ass out of the ocean, but he hadn't been exactly kind about it. He wasn't exactly selling himself at the moment either. However, the wolf only heard the words _I dated a vampire._ He lurched up off the swing with a snarl, and chuckled darkly at the irony of her accusation. He wasn't alone; he had her. "You don't know what you're talking about. You don't know me, little girl."

"I know you just as well as you know me," she ground out, taking another deep drink from the bottle. It wasn't good, and it hurt, searing her like a hot poker down the throat, but she managed it with only one harsh sputter. Tough little shit. "People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones."

"We are not alike." Paul towered over her, nostrils flared as he trembled. They weren't alike, but he could help her. He could show her how to stand tall again. She didn't need Jacob to build her up. She didn't need anyone. She needed to know that she could stand on her own two feet, strong and solid, and take what the world threw at her. Paul knew all about that. He could teach her. He would. "You're just a-" _A little girl, and I don't know how to save you from yourself._

But he would try.

"Leech lover, yeah, yeah. You've said that before." She rolled her eyes, and waved her hand errantly, sloshing moonshine down her chest. It made her dress cling obscenely as she spat at him, all the vitriol things she'd never say otherwise. "We get it Paul. _I'm_ so pathetic, not even the leech wanted me! Ha! I'm not even good enough for the undead. I get it, okay? I get it. Believe me, memo received. In fucking triplicate."

Tough little shit, he thought again. He'd seen the fire in her, the day she'd slapped him and that alone would have impressed Paul. But it had been when he phased, taking Jacob with him, that she hadn't even run. She stood her ground in horrified awe. His birdie was a spitfire, apparently.

Right now, however, she was nothing short of hysterical, curled in on herself and cackling like a fucking coyote. She'd finally lost it, Paul thought.

"Bells?"

Paul tensed, ready for the fight he was sure would be brewing beneath Jacob's stupid eyes. He had his own imprint; he should have been with Leah. Instead he couldn't fucking give it up; he had to cling like Sam did. Couldn't the baby Alpha fucking learn? When it came to things like this -relationships- you couldn't fucking cling. Once you put your claws in, you were only sure to tear it further.

"Holy shit, Paul." Jacob growled, pushing the screen door open with far too much force than was necessary. And they called Paul the aggressive one. Sue was going to rip him a new one for it. "Did you get her drunk?"

Oh, _that_. "She may have had a little. How was I to know she was such a damn lightweight?" It wasn't enough to hurt her. In fact, no matter the headache she was sure to have the morning after, she'd feel better. She'd let her walls come down, if only for a moment, and things spilled out, poisonous thoughts she'd kept to herself. She thought she was worthless, pathetic, and maybe he hadn't made her feel much better. Paul wouldn't have any of that. Tomorrow, he'd show her how she didn't need anyone to tell her what she was worth. He'd show her how no opinion mattered but her own. She needed _that_.

"She hasn't even eaten today." Jacob sighed. She hadn't eaten? Paul turned my head to look at her, and frowned. It looked as if she hadn't eaten in quite a few days. What the hell was wrong with her? "Come on Bells, let's get you home."

"I didn't know she'd go and chug it on an empty stomach." He certainly wouldn't have let her do something so stupid on a fucking empty stomach. "Is she stupid?"

"Don't talk about her like that," Jake snapped, and it was enough to tear a growl out of Paul, instinctive beyond anything Jacob could comprehend.

"Don't talk about her like she's not sitting right here!" Paul would talk to Swan however the fuck he felt like. She was his; he knew what she needed. It wasn't to be coddled by Jacob Black _who was not hers_.

"_Ha ha. _Big bad wolf's in _trouble_!"

She thought she was real funny. Did she think Jacob was a problem for Paul? The boy was on a new leash, one Paul had no problem exploiting. Rolling his eyes, he turned to the baby alpha and smirked. "Hey Jacob, where's Leah?" Jacob blanched, his whole body pulling taught. His eyes shifted to the house, where Leah no doubt stood somewhere, listening from the shadows.

It certainly shut the birdie up. She pushed up out of the swing, and tottered down the steps. "This was fun. We should...we should all do it again sometime. You know but without the dying part."

As she kicked off her shoes, each one flying across the grass with little wet plops, something shuddered in Paul. He wanted to follow her, keep the sight of her face fresh in his mind, but he didn't. Something slammed into him, like a punch to the gut. It left him reeling, blinking absently. His mind felt oddly blank, like the first moments after waking. What the hell had just happened? Swan wandered off, and he watched her with vague interest.

Who cared where Swan went? It wasn't his problem.

"Bella, wait." Jacob shoved Paul out of his way, and toddled after her like a sad, eager puppy. She was running away from him; didn't he get that? "Hey, _wait_."

"Oh hey look, it's Leah!" Swan gestured wildly behind Jacob, and the bastard paused, head snapping back to where Leah wasn't. Paul snorted, smirking. Apparently the girl did have some balls under all that horrible teenage angst. Good for her. "Go home Jake_." _

"I don't want to leave things like this."

"Like what?" She shrugged, taking a wobbly step back from him. "Leave it alone, Jake."

"Bella-"

"Please. Just leave it alone."

"Bells." Did Jacob want her to fucking beg? She'd made herself clear. She just needed space. I thought, all things considered, she wasn't asking for much. At least she hadn't pulled a Leah and went on some sort of wild rampage of destruction. No, that wasn't Swans style. Unfortunately, she was the type to quietly ruminate in her sorrow. "Please."

"Leave it-"

"She said leave her alone." God, Paul had enough of him. Jake hurt her -intentionally or not- and he couldn't even give her a moment to catch her fucking breath. Common fucking courtesy, you know? Give the girl a break. What did he want from her; an instant blessing? Paul hopped the porch railing, and punched Jake in the chest. His wolf was itching for a fight and he had no idea why. "What the fuck you want from her, bro? She made herself clear. No means no, and shit."

"The fuck's it to you, Paul?" Jacob rounded on him, as he'd expected. "Leave her alone. She has enough shit to deal with right now. She doesn't need a scumbag womanizer like you hanging around. She needs real friends."

"That's rich coming from you," Paul spat. Jacob Black might have been the baby Alpha, but he had no say where Paul put his dick, that was for damn sure. "If you were really her friend, you'd give her a moment to get her shit together. Seriously, this is more pathetic than you hounding on her to date you when she so clearly had you in the friend-zone. " He pushed past Jake. Swan's left shoe was laid on the path, and he kicked it into the grass. Shoeless in the rain; maybe she really was some kind of fucking idiot. Goddamn, he just wanted some sleep. But the wolf wasn't having any of it, pushing at his skin for the insides. Pushing past Jake, he headed towards the woods. He needed to run off the adrenalin rush. "Give her a fucking minute, Christ."

**TBC**


	5. Therein lies the solution

**March 18****th****, Sunday**

**Em·bold·en [em-bohl-duhn] – Verb**

to make bold, or bolder; hearten; encourage.

"Holy shit," Embry's voice cut through the void that was sleep, bringing Paul halfway back to the real world far earlier then scheduled. "Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit."

"Stop saying that before I kill you," he mumbled into the pillow.

"You uh...I didn't think you'd be home last night, so I dumped her in your bed," Embry mumbled, banging his head against the door frame for whatever ungodly reason. "Did you sleep with _her_?"

The awakening slammed into him with the force of a small jet engine. There was no gentle transition between sleep and awareness. He was asleep, and then he was awake; just another side effect of becoming _Were_.

"What?"

"You know what?" Embry cut him off before he could elaborate his question. "I'm just...going to go somewhere that isn't here. I don't need to know if you slept with her. No one does. Especially Jake, Paul. Do not tell Jake. Sorry I put her in your bed, I really thought you'd go out. Speaking of out...uh. Yeah. Bye!"

And then Embry was gone.

Paul was confused. Because the bed was obviously his, but it was not solely occupied by him. Paul had very few rules when it came to where he put his dick, but never bringing home the girl was the most unbreakable. Not even for the usual reasons; it was just too risky with a bunch of werewolves hanging around. The last thing he needed was some chick naked in his bed when Embry busted in spouting about leeches or patrol or some shit.

Never the less, there was a girl in his bed. One that Embry had put there for reasons unknown to Paul. A familiar one, at that. He recognized those gray, cotton boy shorts from the night before.

Bella Swan. In his bed.

"What the fuck!" She looked about as surprised to see him as he was to see her. He himself was half-dressed, and bleary eyed, sprawled out over the covers in exactly the position he'd dropped there only some few hours before, bone-weary from patrols and soaked in moonshine from after. "Swan?"

"Oh God." Her tousled head snapped up like a whip. He was on his back, and she on her belly. Her eyes met his, horrified and wide, and Paul felt something inside of him shatter. It didn't crash into him, break him down and build him up. No, it was like a door opening, or a wall falling, and suddenly, Bella Swan seemed important.

Which was weird because it was Swan.

"Oh God. Did we have-" Her eyes clamped shut and her hand slapped over her mouth. "Oh my God, I'm think I'm going to puke."

He blanched. That wasn't how he wanted to start the day. "Not in my bed."

"Oh God. I'm in your bed. Oh God. Please, please tell me we did not have-"

"Quit saying it like it would be the worst thing in the world," he snapped, lips curling up in a snarl. He was tired, if not hung over, and she was looking at him like he was the worst scum on Earth. "I'm a fucking _beast_ in the sack. I've certainly never had any complaints. "

"Is that suppose to be some sort of enticement?" She asked, giving him a bewildered look. "Excuse me, but my tastes don't run along the lines of town bicycle."

He couldn't really protest it; Paul did get around. Still, dignity stung, his mouth fell open. Anything he had to say was cut short by the ill-promising rumble in her stomach. Oh God. She really _was_ going to puke. Slapping a hand over her mouth, she scrambled ungracefully over Paul's stomach, off the bed, and out of the room. She'd never make it to the bathroom, he thought.

She made it to the sink.

No one really enjoys puking, but Paul thought for girls it might have been worse. They always seemed to cry when they puked. Paul didn't get it, but Swan was no different. She puked, and he sighed, leaning over her to hold her hair back. How his morning had been reduced to this was any one's guess, but he supposed he deserved it. He _did_ get her drunk. There really wasn't much in there, mostly bile, and moonshine. She really needed to eat more. Whens he was mostly done, he gave her a moment to breathe. He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and a little square packet of alka seltzer from the long disused box in the bathroom cabinet.

"Here." Paul leaned against the counter beside the sink. He nudged a glass of fizzing water into her hand. "We didn't fuck. I just got in from a run." And a small bout of binge drinking. He left that part out. As often as he tried to get hammered, it was hardly a necessary detail. Par of course, really.

She took it, but warily. "I'm not sure I should trust anything you give me."

"It's seltzer water," he grunted, rolling his eyes. It struck him then, as he looked at her standing in the morning light pouring through the window, that she was a stranger to him. Her face was familiar to him though, round and white, with a full pink mouth and eyes as dark as any Quileute. Paul didn't need Jacob's soft-touched pack-mind version of angelic and flawless Bella Swan. But then, he'd never really bothered to look himself, for all that he'd seen her around; on the beach, at Billy's, with her dad, on a cliff, in the water...he'd noticed her, but he'd never really _looked_. "Drink it."

She did, almost on reflex, tipping the cool, bubbling water against her pale lips. She took orders too well, and that worried him. Paul fought everything. It wasn't that he was against taking orders, he simply wanted to know why he should bother. It wasn't so much to ask, really. Frowning, he looked her up and down, her bare body covered in nearly nothing but her underthings. So thin, she was so damn thin, hip bones jutting sharply from her skin. Even her stomach was slightly concave beneath her exposed ribs. He wondered if maybe she was still a little drunk from the night before; she hadn't noticed she was naked. "Stay here." Surely her clothes couldn't be far; Embry would have mentioned it, if he'd found her naked.

"Paul? Embry? You awake?" Jacob's voice boomed from the front yard. "Have you guys seen-_Bella_?"

Great. That was the last thing he needed. He yanked a shirt out of his closet and sprinted back to kitchen. Jacob was wide eyed, and staring. It lacked the lust it might have once upon a time, but Paul still didn't care for it much.

Of course Swan took that moment to realize she was only in her underwear.

"Jacob!" She squeaked, hands shaking like they weren't sure what to cover first. "Oh God." She spun on her feet in escape, only to slam against Paul. "Shit!"

He grabbed her by the shoulders, and kept her on her feet. "For fucks sake, put this one." Thrusting the shirt at her, he pushed his way in front of Swan, the sprawling width of his back offering a modicum of privacy from Jacob's surprised gaze.

"Shit Paul," Jacob growled, and Swan peeked around Paul's shoulder to find him trembling in the doorway, mouth clenched tight. "You didn't wait long, did you? Fuck!"

"Don't lay it all on me Baby Jay," Paul replied, tipping back his head to bark out a laugh. Everybody was fast so judge Paul, but Jacob would never hold the girl to the same standards. "If I worked fast, you gotta say the same for her, you know? It's a new generation. Gender equality and shit." He might have made a joke out of it, but Paul's mother was actually a total feminist. Paul _did_ believe in gender equality. She'd beat his ass if he didn't.

To his surprise, Swan snorted indignantly. "What's it to you, Jake? It's none of your business." It wasn't the vehement denial Paul expected, but considering the way Jake blanched, he thought maybe Swan was going for a petty little stab. _Maybe_ she was still a little drunk.

Either way, good for her. It really _wasn't_ Jacob's business. Never really was.

"Bella?" Jacob's shoulders fell, mouth gaping. "Are you saying-"

"She said it wasn't your business," Paul reminded him, smirking hard. If that was the game the birdie wanted to play, well than Paul would help. Jake needed a wake up call almost as badly as Swan. "Why don't you run along now Black. Swan is fine. More than fine, really. _Damn fine_, even."

"Why would you..." Jacob shook his head, fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides. "Paul, Bella? Really? For your first time, you picked Paul?" He sounded annoyed, which...really? He had _no right_. It wasn't as if he'd offered Chief Swan six sheep for her virgin hand in marriage. He didn't exactly own the deed, so to speak. "I would have-"

Paul knew what Jacob would have done. Just like he knew Swan had never offered it. Before he could remind Jake of that, however, she stepped out from behind him and shrugged. "What can I say _Jacob_. It's been pointed out to me that I've always had pretty low standards in men. But unlike the rest of the guys in my life, Paul doesn't lie, _and_ he puts out."

Floored, Paul could barely even muster a protest at her list of his paper-thin charms. "Hey," he grumbled, biting back a smirk as Jacob deflated like a cheap balloon. Still, there was being petty, and there was forgetting the truth. "Wasn't Jacob's fault, you know."

Instead of flustering, or getting mad, Bella nodded. "Doesn't give him the right to say anything about my decisions."

_ Got it one,_ he thought. _Good girl. _

Jacob gave her the face, the sad, kicked dog face that Paul wanted to punch in. "Bells-"

"Right." Swan ignored him blithely. "So if we're done here, I'm going to go find my dress and find my father, and go home."

"Charlie's still asleep," Jacob blustered, his eyes still wide and a little desperate. What did he want from her? She was trying so hard to smile and bite back her tears for Jake. Paul didn't think it was to cool of his pack brother to badger her for more. What did he expect? . "It's only like six in the morning. I brought my car by-"

"I'd rather walk," She snapped, and Jacob blanched. It wasn't really her way to be so brash, as far as Paul knew (very little, admittedly). "I'm...look. I'm _trying_. You just need to give me some space okay?" _Good girl, _Paul thought again. _Tell it to him straight. No more of this I'm Fine bullshit._

"It's like fifteen miles. Come on, just let me take you home." Jacob sighed, making the sad-puppy face again. It was sort of shameful, for a future Alpha, to resort to manipulation. That was more Paul's thing.

"I'd rather walk." She crossed her arms over her chest and ignored the way it made the shirt ride up inches on her thigh.

Paul however, did not ignore it. He looped an arm around her shoulders, and tugged her backwards against him. With her back pressed flush against his chest, he leaned down to prop his chin on her shoulder. "I can give you a _ride_, birdie. Least I can do after last night." She shivered, body going hot with embarrassment.

Jacob seethed, as if he had any right to. "Get your filthy fu-"

"That would be great Paul, thank you." She cut Jacob off, shrinking in on herself when she blushed harder. "Just uh...let me find my dress."

The drive to Forks was short, and Paul wasn't exactly looking forward to dealing with Sam. No doubt Jacob had already run to Daddy Wolf, and cried foul. They'd both be on his ass the second he stepped back onto the Rez.

Which was why he needed to avoid that for as long as possible, really.

"You know what will make you feel better? You need to eat. You remember how to do that?"

"I can feed myself, thank you." He watched her suck in a deep breath, releasing it slowly like an anger management patient. He certainly knew his fair share about deep breathing. Licking her teeth, she forced out a smile. "But thank you for driving me home." Looks like they were playing nice again. Or whatever stood as nice for them. He could do that if it meant he didn't have to head back.

"You sure?" He shut the door behind him, and didn't wait for her to get out of the truck before he made his way up the path to the door, flipping through her key ring for the house key. "Cause' it sure looks like you forgot." Okay so nice for them was relevant, whatever. He wasn't going to start babying her _now_. Not when she'd finally show a little fucking back bone.

Her hand slid to her stomach guiltily. "It's not...I'm not...I'm just not hungry okay? I eat."

"In all the time I've known you, I've seen you eat a muffin." That had been the first night, the night he couldn't quite about quite clearly, like seconds or minutes or hours were missing. But then, it had been a rough day all around. That damn leech had been running into the ground. It wasn't a surprise that time would start to blur. "You never eat. You pick at your food while every one is to distracted eating to notice."

"Everyone but _you_ apparently." she snapped, watching him open the door. She tugged at the hem of her faded t-shirt nervously. "Look. Whatever. I don't want to argue about this. Thank you for driving me home." It was a clear and blatant dismissal; he chose to ignore it.

He dropped her keys in the glass bowl on the table by the door, assuming they went there. "You're welcome." The kitchen was found easily enough, and he ignored the impatient, irritated sighs escaping her. "So, any requests?"

"Get out of my house and leave me alone?"

"I've never heard of that sandwich. Sounds gourmet. How about turkey?" He pulled the turkey out, and the half head of lettuce. "Tomatoes?"

"Don't go in the fridge," she grumbled, pointing to the bowl on the counter. "Seriously, I don't want a sandwich. Thank you for driving me home, you can leave now."

"Eh. Wasn't asking." He pulled a plate out of the drying rack and set to work. "So, you gonna go like, Full-Leah on us, or what?"

"What?" Looking over his shoulder, he could see that she honestly didn't understand. Jacob probably kept the less savory details from his precious snowflake.

"Leah Clearwater."

"Yeah," Swan snapped. "I know who Leah is. What do you mean Full-Leah."

And well yeah, she would know who Leah was, he supposed. That was stupid. "She uh...she was dating Sam, before he imprinted on Emily. Since that was before she was Pack, she couldn't be told about everything. She kind of...well. She didn't go quietly. Put up one hell of a fight. Broke Emily's heart; Emily ended up pulling away from Sam. We weren't around for it, Jared and I, but it still hurt Sam, the kind of hurt that sticks around. That hurts us, the whole pack. You gonna do that?"

"Hurt the pack?"

"Put up a fight." He looked at her as he tore off chunks of lettuce. "Are you going to fight for Jacob? Because it won't work. Imprinting is...the end stop. I don't know if our Pack can handle another Leah. I'm pretty sure Sam will put up an injunction that we can't date if he sees any one hurt like her again."

"But imprinting is rare." She looked outraged on their behalf, and that amused him to no end. "I mean...would he really do that? What if you never found your soul mate? You'd be alone forever. What about carrying on the line?"

"I don't think Sam really wants to inflict this curse on any one else." It came out like a quiet confession. "Especially his own damn kids."

"But..." She took in a shuddering breath, arms curling over her chest. "Is that really what he thinks of it? I thought the legends called it a blessing . What about protecting? There are still vampires out there."

"Always," Paul agreed, ignoring her pained flinch. "That's why I'm asking if you're going to torture the pack like that. I understand why you might want to, but you have information Leah didn't. You know-"

"That it's not Jacob's fault. Or hers. Imprinting happens. I get it." She nodded, resolute and sharp. "I don't want to hurt any one. It wasn't like that between Jacob and I anyway."

"It was to him." Paul echoed Jacob's words solemnly. "And maybe a little bit to you too, but you never wanted to admit it. Especially now." He handed her the plate, and nodded to the table. "Sit and eat. You'll feel better."

"I don't want the fucking sandwich." In all his memories, and Jacobs, he'd never really heard her swear much. It seemed wrong on her mouth. Her hands shook, rattling the plate, so he took it back and set it on the table for her.

Taking her by the shoulder, he steered her to the chair, pushing down on her just enough to make her sit. "Eat the sandwich." Taking a seat opposite her, he stretched out his legs across the glossy linoleum. "You'll feel better."

She picked up half the sandwich, and he took note of the way she picked all the lettuce off. "Are you just going to sit and watch me eat?"

"If that's what it takes."

"If that's what _what_ takes?" She asked, tearing a chunk off. He narrowed his eyes, watching her hand as she shoved the bit into her mouth. Satisfied that she wasn't trying to pull anything, he shrugged.

"You don't want to hurt Jacob. First step is to not fall apart." _Again_ hanged heavy in the air between them, forbidden. "You have to eat."

"I eat," she repeated, ripping off another chunk. He wondered why she wouldn't just take a bite. It had to be a hang up; Swan had a lot of those. "I'm fine."

He refused to even acknowledge that blatant lie. Instead he stared, hands folded over one another on the table between them in the silence. She squirmed, chewing slowly, quietly.

"I'm fine," she repeated firmly, though he hadn't asked. "I know...I know that it's for the better. That Leah is his...is perfect for him. I know. I'm fine."

"You keep saying that." He tilted his head and stared a little harder, knowing the scrutiny would be unbearable. "Who are you trying to convince here?"

"I don't have to convince you of anything." Her jaw ticked as she swallowed hard. "I don't even know what you're doing here. I asked you to leave. Why are you here?"

Leaning back father in his chair, so far the front two legs tipped up off the ground, he shrugged carelessly. "You're not fine. Anyone with eyes can see that. And I've seen what you do when you're left alone and not fine, Swan."

There was no denying just exactly what he meant. She didn't bother, and he admired that. "I'll be fine."

He nodded, agreeing. "The truth at last. How long are you going to let it eat at you though? How long are you going to pretend to be fine?"

"I'm doing my best okay?" She pushed the plate way, barely half of it eaten. Still, it was something. "I accept that Jacob was never mine. And I...I never really wanted that. He was my friend. My best friend."

"He _is_ your friend Swan. The imprint won't take that; that's entirely up to you now. And I don't believe you when you say you never wanted that. I think you did, but it wasn't the right time, and you didn't want it with him."

She looked away, peering out of the window, where the rain poured down, blurring the world in smudges of green. "I thought I knew what I wanted once upon a time," she murmured, words slipping out of her like it pained her. "But I was wrong."

And just like, Paul realized the real problem here was never Jacob.

It was the Cullen.

The first real frisson of anger shot up his spine, and he shivered with it, hands clenching. "The leech."

"Don't-"

"I'll call them what I want, birdie. The leech fucked with you, Swan. He fucked with your head. That's what they do, it's what they are. Don't you know that? Everything about them is alluring, addicting. You're an addict Swan. A recovering addict. Jacob? He was a replacement drug, like methadone." He breathed slowly out his nose, and pushed it all away. Those leeches were gone, taking with them their poison.

When she swallowed, slow and hard, he watched. "Heroin."

"What?" The very word made his hands clench. She wasn't doing-

"Edward called me heroin once." Her eyes were near vacant as she spoke, hands curling over her chest like he had seen her do -through Jacob's eyes- so many times before. "He said that I was like his perfect drug."

He leaned forward, frowning. "And that didn't seem fucked up to you?"

She blinked, the empty eyed-expression fading away. "It was my scent he loved. He said I smelled...I was his singer. Do you know what that is? He said that my blood...called to him...louder than any other. That he'd never wanted anything the way he wanted me. But not me. My blood."

Chills. It gave Paul chills, hearing her speak like that, the curious curl in her voice disconcerting. Like she didn't quite understand what she was told, the levity of the words. "He...he told you he wanted your blood more than _anything_ else and you...you what? I don't understand what you're telling me here?"

He saw her lip tremble, before she caught it between her teeth. "I think...I think I didn't want to hear what he was telling me." The admission was quiet, guilty even. Like she knew exactly what she'd done wrong, but was still to afraid to admit it.

"He fucked with your head Swan," Paul told her, again, his tone firm but gentle. Like one might use with a naughty child or a mental patient. "That's what they do. The Cullen's...they're worse then most Vampires because they aren't just Vampires. They're actors. They're _liars_." There wasn't anything Paul hated quite like he hated a liar.

The protest spilled out of her mouth possibly on reflex alone. "They're not! The Cullens-"

"Pretend to be human." He looked at her then, daring her to deny it. "But they aren't human, Swan. And they use their advantage against people. They might not be using it to kill humans, to feed from them, but they _do_ use it to get what they want. Can you tell me you never saw it? Can you honestly tell me that you never noticed how people were in awe of them, like the very sight of them turned them stupid?"

Her gaze dropped so fast it screamed guilty. "Of course I noticed. Everyone...our classmates, the waitress...even my dad. I-"

"You're human," Paul cut her off sharply. "Just like your classmates, the waitress, and your dad. You cannot believe that you were immune. You weren't. You've seen people act like fucking idiots because of the Cullen's at twenty paces, and you were in their house, Swan. You weren't unaffected, you were drugged, plain and simple. You were the biggest fucking idiot of them all because you were so close to them, you couldn't even see what they were doing to you until it was to late. The sooner you realize that, the better."

"I loved him," she whispered, hands clenching. "He loved me. He did."

"Maybe he did." Paul doubted it very much but there was no sense in pouring salt on her wounds. Just because it seemed ridiculous to him didn't mean her pain wasn't real. He didn't want to _hurt_ her, he just wanted her to wake the fuck up. "But he left. He pulled you in and then he left you like this."

Fat tears splashed against the surface of the table, dripping from her lashes. "It _hurts_."

"Addiction does." He leaned forward, forcing her head up. "You get stomach cramps, feel like you can't eat, can't think, can't sleep. You feel like your lungs are caving in on you. You shake. You cry. Chills, and sweats, and nightmares. Some people even hallucinate." He didn't like the way she twitched at that. "It's called withdrawal, Swan. You're going through withdrawal because you were addicted. Everything about them is addicting, Swan. Did you know that?"

"Edward told me," she confessed, and Paul could barely contain his shock. She'd _known_ and still she'd...but that was how drugs worked. You got to a point where it didn't matter any more, how bad it could hurt you. "He said that they were built to be the perfect predator, to lure their victims in."

"Humans." The correction was firm. "To lure humans, and you're human Swan. He might not have ever meant to hurt you, make you this way. But he did, because it's what he is. Everything about them Swan, and I mean everything. Their voice, their smell, their touch. All of them; it wasn't just the the one that did this Swan, it was all of them."

"They loved me." A teary protest now, poured out in a sob. "I know they did."

"Maybe they did," Paul conceded; it wasn't' a battle he was going to win. If she wanted to believe the lies, well, she was a dumb shit for it, but there was little he could do. "But they should have known better. They should have know what they would do to you, Swan. It wasn't fair of them to bring you into this damn world, only to leave you hanging."

Crying out right, she let her face fall into her hands, shoulders trembling with the force of her sobs. "I don't know what to do! I don't know how to get better by myself. Jacob...Jacob was the only thing that kept me together and now he's gone and I'm scared I'm going to fall apart again. I can't do it without him, I can't."

"He was your methadone. Do you know what that is? They use it to ween addicts. It helps with the withdrawal symptoms. But you can't go on like that forever. You never could. Eventually you would have had to stand on your own feet, Swan. Now's that time."

"I don't know _how_."

He reached across the table and pulled her hands away from her face, spanning both her wrists with one hand. "Pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and keep your head high. You don't need any one to hold your hand. You're one strong son of a bitch, birdie."

Her fingers curled open, hands relaxing even though her wrists were still caught in his hand. "I'm not strong. I'm a...a _mess_."

Letting her go, he pushed up out of the chair, and picked up her sandwich. He ate what was left in two bits and set the plate in the sink. "That's not the way I see it. I've seen you do...amazingly stupid shit. I've seen you small talk a vampire that was ready to eat you. I've seen you get in the face of a man twice your size. You shoved Sam, and you slapped me! And when I phased, when Jacob and I both phased, you only ran so far as to get out of the way. After that, you had to be removed by Embry. You held your shit together. Believe it or not Swan, but you've got balls. You just need to figure out where you put them."

"You're...you're glorifying it!" She sputtered, looking up at him with wide, startled eyes.

"Are you saying it's not true?" Turning, he leaned against the counter, and stared down at her. "I'm not a liar, Swan."

"No...no I mean, I did those things but it wasn't like-" She waved her hands, as if to encompass exactly what it wasn't like. "I mean...I was scared. I was terrified."

"Of course you were scared!" He reeled, looking at her with an incredulous expression. "Only a fucking moron wouldn't be scared, Swan. If you weren't scared, I'd have to smack some sense into you. There is no shame in being afraid. Knowing what you fear is what keeps you from killing yourself."

Fiddling with her shirt hem again, she nodded slowly. "If...if you're right and I am...addicted or whatever...how do I get better? I cant' live like this." She mumbled every word, as if she wasn't quite sure she wanted him to hear. He remembered suddenly, that night he'd seen her in her back yard, crying out that she couldn't live like this. That it had to end.

Maybe she was closer to her end than any one could have imagined. It was sort of a scary thought. Paul didn't have to like her, or know her, to not want to see her dead. Vampires did this to her; it was his job to protect.

"Well that's the first step, so they say. Admitting, and shit. You have to acknowledge that you have a problem. Sometimes though...it isn't that easy. Sometimes there are lots of problems." He had a feeling Swan had _lots_ of problems.

"I can't sleep." He was surprised at the swiftness of her response. Maybe she really was desperate for help. "I can't fall asleep and when I do, I wake up screaming. I'm so tired I can barely function some days."

"Sleeping is the main problem?" She looked away guiltily, and he could only wonder why. "Well...alright then. Answer's simple. The fuck you do all day? Nothing. You don't do shit."

"What?" She blinked up at him, her lips falling open in surprise. "I...I do things. I have school, and work, and I cook Charlie dinner and-"

"It's July." It pained him that he needed to remind her of that. How far was the girl gone? "You don't have school. And I don't mean chores, Swan. I mean what do you do? Activity wise?"

Her expression was inscrutable, and she picked at the hem of her shirt again. "I...read. I hang out with Jacob. We use to ride the bikes but my father...he didn't really like that."

"So basically you just what...sit around?" From what he recalled, she and Jacob did a lot of sitting around. Well, she did anyway. She sat around while he worked on his car. They sat around on the beach. He sat around watching her cook. "Well shit. That's your problem."

"Excuse me?"

Rolling his eyes, he stole an apple from the basket on the counter and bit into it with a loud crunch. "You're going to bed every night, but you're not tired. You're not doing anything to make yourself tired. You need to wear yourself out. What you need is a hobby, like a sport or something. You work in a sports store, right? I mean, you have to have options."

"Sports?" She looked bewildered, like the thought of physical activity was completely foreign to her. "I don't know if you're aware, but I'm not...I fall down a lot."

"Sure you do." Paul had certainly seen her fall on her ass to many times to count, through Jacob. "But I think half of it is because you expect some one to catch you. I mean. I honestly can't believe some one could make it this far in life as clumsy as you. Were you always like that?"

Her gaze flickered to the window, where she stared out into the fog. "No...I mean, I've never been graceful, and I've always fallen a lot but...No. No it wasn't always this bad."

"Right" He nodded sharply, and peered out the window. It was light out still, even through the clouds. "Plus, grace and shit? Those things can be learned. You can teach yourself not to fall on your ass, Swan. Same way babies do."

"I'm not a baby." She could barely put any emotion behind the protest, just a simple sigh and a half-hearted glare.

"You can't feed yourself, you barely talk, and you need your hand held wherever you go. Face it, you're kind of like a baby." He shrugged, unrepentant. "Look, you want help with this shit or not?"

"I didn't ask you," she reminded him. "I don't know why you're doing this. Why do you even care?"

There were a lot of reasons he should have cared, but really, there were just as many as to why he shouldn't. "Because if you don't pick yourself up off the ground, Jacob will never accept his imprint. He'll hurt Leah, himself, and the whole damn pack. I already told you what Sam will do, should you fall apart on this. Personally, I think he's betting you will. He thinks you're weak."

And there it was, just a little flash behind her dead eyes. "I'm not weak."

"Right, we'll have you believing that in no time. I won't go easy on you, Swan, and I won't let you fail." She didn't need easy; she _wasn't_ weak. "You're a tough bitch, birdie. Time you start remembering that. Now, get your shoes on, we're going out."

"I don't think I can. I'm...tired, I guess." Swan sighed, resting her forehead in her hands. "I don't think I can-"

"Shoes." When she made no effort to rise from her chair, he couldn't help the irritated growl that escaped him. "You think you're tired, but you're not. Look, when you go to bed at night, what's the first thing you do? Not the whole brushing your teeth and shit, but once you're actually in bed? You think. You get to thinking, and then you over think and then you dwell. Every one does it. Problem is, not every one has the same shit going on in there head as you do. So, what you're going to do is wear yourself out, physically, mentally, and emotionally. I'm guessing you like using sleep an escape. But you can't go to bed with you're head full of worries and shit. You just can't. You gotta get it out of your system, or make yourself so tired, you can't even dwell on it."

Looking up at him in shamed awe, Swan frowned, a little wrinkle forming between her eyes. "How do you know all of this?" With a worried look that confused him, he watched her bite into her lip again. "Were you addicted to something, too?"

"Me?" He was honestly surprised. "No, not me. But my dad was. And before you even ask, it was heroin, and he's okay now. He actually lives in Hoquiam, and works as a contractor. He's been clean for about six years now."

"Oh." She swallowed, looking shamefaced for asking. "Then how do you know all the other stuff...about sleeping and stuff. If it wasn't you, I mean."

"Lot's of people deal with their shit like that. They dwell on it, and it gets to them. Depresses them. You just have to know when to say stop. But I've gone to bed a few times with to much on my mind, and I know how it can get to you."

"I imagine you have your fair share of worries," she murmured, looking him in the face. "You shouldn't have to worry about me messing things up for your Pack."

The way she said it, the way it was phrased -exactly as he had explained- pained him for reasons he couldn't think on. "I'm not worried. I'm...proactive. So let's get you back to fully functioning and we can all get back to our own damn lives." It came out gruff, and not a little abrasive. There was nothing to be done for it, but Swan seemed emboldened by his hard talk. "So, you know. Go put your shoes on."

She did, pulling the laces tight on a ratty pair of sneakers. "I should leave a note for Charlie," she murmured at him, meek and mumbled. They'd fix that. They were back to that, then.

He'd make her better. Make her stronger. Somewhere along the way she'd forgotten herself.

**TBC**


	6. Can't See The Bottom? Look For The Top

When the well runs so deep you can't see the bottom

**mo·ti·vate **[moh-t_uh_-veyt] verb:  
to provide with a motive; to incite; impel.

Paul liked the forest best when it was full of mist; the creeping, curling fog rolling through the trees. It was when he felt most like he _belonged_, his dark sliver coat blending perfectly with the scenery. Sure, he was a part of his pack, but in the woods, well...the forest didn't judge. He was in his element here; the girl, not so much. She walked beside him, tripping her way down a clearly marked path, and he couldn't help but be alarmed by it.

When she managed to walk straight smack into a tree, he growled, agitation rolling in waves across his skin. 'Fully functioning' meant walking, he reminded himself. This was just one more step he hadn't foreseen. God, she really _was_ like a baby. "Alright, that's _it_. How have you not broken your face?"

The flash of fire behind her eyes was heartening, but it didn't last. She deflated, a defeated pout on her lips. "I told you I couldn't-"

"You can," he growled, grabbing her by the wrist. She yelped, jerking in his arms as he tugged her along, off the path. "You can. You have two legs, and two feet, and have long since learned to stand upright. We need to find your element, get you in your zone. You just don't have the...the motivation. What motivates you, birdie?"

He didn't need to ask; Paul knew what motivated Bella Swan.

With a twist and a jump, he hauled her against his chest and sprang upward, into the nearest tree. The tree was perfect for this, lot's of evenly spaced branches, each thick and unyielding. He couldn't have picked a better one, really. She squealed, clutching against him frantically, all personal-space issues suddenly void in the face of danger. He peeled her off of his chest, and braced her feet against the branch, with her her back against the trunk of the tree. "Well, there you go."

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" She hissed, clawing frantically at the bark beneath her hands. Her eyes refused to leave his face, terrified to look down. And there it was again, that haunted girl he'd seen before, the one he kept forgetting. _Dying, decaying, rotting from the inside out. _But the terror there, the heart-pounding horror painted on her face, it made it less...it just made it _less_. She looked more alive in that moment then he'd seen in a long time. The spark was there, just like it had been when she'd told him off on the porch after Harry's memorial.

Oh but she was terrified, he could smell it, and it made his gut clench, made his own heart race in all the wrong ways._ A terrible time to get turned on. _He wasn't a monster, but he liked the way she smelled scared, and he didn't have the adrenalin rush of a leech chase to write it off this time. It made his stomach twist and turn, but he wouldn't feel guilty for this. She needed this. She needed help. The words tough-love floated absently across his mind, but they were easily ignored. That was ridiculous.

She wasn't all that high up, no more then twenty feet. It would hurt her if she fell, there was no doubt about it, but it wouldn't kill her. Some how, he doubted she'd taken that into consideration.

"Showing you exactly what you can do," he explained, taking a step back on the branch. "You're about twenty feet up, birdie. No higher then the roof of your house. There are several sturdy branches beneath you; this tree was made for climbing. So climb it."

"Get me down!"

"Get you're self down." He hopped off her branch, making her scream as it swayed. "Bye bye, birdie!"

"Paul!" She bellowed, startling the birds above her. He was fairly sure the blood in his dick was pulsing in rhythm to her beating heart, and he felt all the more fucked up for it. "Paul! You can't leave me here! I can't get down! I _can't_."

"Well, shit. Guess you're fucked, huh?"

The noise she made was almost a growl, and it made him laugh. "Is this what you brought me out here for? To...to mess with me! God, you _are_ a stupid jerk! Jake was right about you."

That cut his laughter short, and Paul scowled. He didn't really give a shit what people said about him, those who mattered knew the truth. But Jake was an entitled little bitch who probably only ever bothered to smear Paul's name due to his own insecurities. "I'm sure everything Jake said about me was true. I'm a dick, birdie. And you're in a tree. Both of those are facts, but one of them you can change. Get the fuck out of the tree."

"I can't."

"Again, I guess you're fucked." He looked up at her trough the branches, where she was clinging with a white-knuckle embrace. "You might want to start before nightfall though. You think it's hard now, wait until you can't see the branches."

"Please don't do this to me," she pleaded suddenly. "I can't do this, Paul. I can't. I'm sorry, I don't know what I did, but I'm _sorry_. I won't-"

"Woah," he frowned, and circled the tree. "You think this is a punishment? This isn't a punishment, birdie. This is an exercise in self-preservation. It's a lot like sink-or-swim, but...you know, climb-or-fall. Either way, you're gonna hit the ground. It's probably better if you do it with your feet and not your face."

Her breath stuttered, and her heart stammered, and she clung for all she had. "I'm going to fall. You'll never be able to catch me."

"I have no intentions of catching you," he told her, firm and brisk. "You're going to get out of this by yourself."

He slipped around the tree without another word, making as noisy a departure as necessary. He wasn't really gone of course, just hidden at the base of the trunk, behind her, where she'd never look. The sudden scent of salt bit at him; she was crying again. _Jesus Christ;_ that shouldn't have made him _harder_. Paul was pretty sure he'd moved past the age of inappropriate boners at about sixteen. He ignored it with his usual steadfast ability to suppress. It wasn't exactly something he could _handle_ at the moment anyway. She smelled like prey, but...not. Clearly his wolf was confused.

"Paul?" Back to a murmur. He watched her peer out from the tree, scanning for him. "Paul?" She hissed, and he paused, silent as the grave. "Oh God. Please don't leave me out here. I can't, you don't understand, I don't... _Please don't leave me here alone."_

He was assaulted once again with Sam's memory; her curled up in that yellow coat on the forest floor, the stink of leach still hanging faintly in the air, still clinging to her skin and clothes That hadn't happened so far from here, he thought, and cursed himself. He'd brought her out into the woods where the leech had left her. He'd brought her here and _left_ her. But, they'd come too far to turn back now. He stayed silent. Paul _was_ a dick, but she'd see in the end that unlike the leech, Paul hadn't left her.

And then the strangest thing happened.

Bella Swan began to climb.

Step by slow, torturous step, he watched all the _I cant's_ and the _I'll fall's _fade away. Her expression was nothing short of paramount seriousness. The kind of steadfast solemnity you might find on a surgeon or those guys that deactivate bombs. Every branch was treated like a red-wire, green-wire, blue-wire, toed and tested. She paused on occasion, heart hammering as she caught her breath. By the time she'd made it half way down, twilight had crept in on them, the cusp of both day and night.

It was she who broke the silence. "I said I was _fine," _she growled out suddenly, much to his alarm. Who was she talking to? It couldn't be him; he hadn't asked. "Yes I _can_! I have to try."

_Who the hell was she talking to?_

He kept to the shadows, looking up at her as she took each branch a little more recklessly then the last, the soles of her shoes slipping on the loose bark. "Paul thinks I can," she muttered, anger leeching into her words. "What do you want me to do? You're not _here_ Edward."

Edward.

She was talking to Edward Cullen, even though she clearly knew he wasn't there.

_She's worse than I thought. _

It was another half an hour before she touched the ground, feet slapping the damp forest dirt. Night had only just began to fall; the light hadn't quite leeched the color from the trees. He could smell her tears again, even as she scrubbed furiously at her face.

"How's it feel?" Paul asked, scaring the shit out of her. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't intentional; he wanted that rush of adrenalin in her, wanted to smell it, wanted her to feel it and come alive like he knew she could. Swan shrieked, hand flying to her mouth as she stumble backwards. He caught her before she fell, curling his hand over her elbow. "Woah, hold up, birdie. Calm down."

"You left me in a tree!" She snapped, jerking out of his arms. She spun on her feet, looking around her wildly. "You...you left me out here-"

"I was here the whole time." He pointed to the spot he'd hid at, just out of her site. "Watched you every step of the way. Listened to everything you siad."

Any color she'd gathered from her exertion drained away in an instant. "Oh."

"Yeah, _oh_." He gave her a grave look, and tried not to look nearly as uncomfortable as he felt. "So..."

Instantly her hands were around her waist, and her lip was between her teeth. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Yeah, me neither," Paul grumbled. There were issues Paul could handle and then there were _Issues_. But hey, baby steps right? "Alright. Alright, we won't talk about it _now_, but eventually you're really going to have to work that out. You know he's not there, right?"

"Yes," she hissed, between her teeth, holding herself a little tighter. She was embarrassed, of course she was, but that only seemed to make her spine straighter. She looked at him, as if daring him to call her out on her crazy. Pride was something Paul could respect.

"Right." He ran his hand through his hair nervously and lead her back toward the path. "Well, maybe Jacob? I mean...look, it _is_ a side effect, these hallucinations. But that doesn't mean it won't help to talk it out. Jacob is still your friend, and he'll want to help-"

"I can't tell him," she breathed out, her fingers curling over his arm suddenly. She curled into herseself like one of those rolly-polly bugs he and Jared use to poke with sticks when they were little. "I can't tell him, he'll be mad, he'll—-"

"Want to help you," Paul finished. "You should talk to him. I won't tell him, but that doesn't mean he won't see it. And you need to talk about it. You need to get it out."

"I _can't_."

He looked back at her and raised his brow. "What, just like you couldn't climb down that tree? You can, birdie. Shut your mouth for a minute, stop telling yourself you _can't_, and just fucking do it."

"When I talk about them, I feel like I'm dying," she said in a rush, and it was a admission he hadn't expected. He didn't particularly want to play Confessional, but here they were. "I feel like my lungs shrivel up and I can't breath and everything goes black and I can't even-"

"Bella." He rounded on her, grasping her by the shoulders and giving her a shake. She was trembling all over, eyes clamped shut as she physically held herself together. It made his own heart hammer, panic sweeping over his skin like a chill. "Hey, breathe! Breathe _dammit_."

She cried, hot tears burning trails down her cheeks. "I can't! I can't! I just _can't_." She slapped her hands against his chest with every word, fists balled loose and weak as she shook her head. "No, no, no!"

Panicking himself -he was so far in over his head- he smacked her. Not hard, but enough to make a sound, enough to leave a little red mark on her pale cheek. Her head reeled a little and she cupped her cheek in shock. "Sorry. Sorry. I just...you have to breath. You can't stop breathing. That's...yeah. New rule. It's an important one. Breathe. Like, all the time, breathe. Jesus, you freaked me out." But hey, at least the random boner was gone.

"Sorry." Her hand slipped from her cheek, and Paul couldn't help but feel relieved to see that the mark was already fading. He wasn't exactly comfortable with hitting girls, let alone someone already so damn broken. Laying hands on her felt like blaspheme; he couldn't explain it.

"It's...yeah. You got some shit going on, don't you?" He couldn't school his expression to his normal cool. He was honest-to-god shocked. "I mean, it goes way deeper than what Jacob saw. 'Cause I got to tell you, I'm just going on what I got from him and I'm guessing you hid a lot."

She laughed, a hallow broken sound that ricocheted through the forest. "I'm a mess."

He nodded; there was no point in denying the fact. She was. And admitting was the first step, after all. "But hey, you got out of that tree all by yourself. You didn't think you could, but you did."

"Yeah, I guess I did." Back to mumbling, it would seem. "Why would you ask me what my motivator was, and then shove me in a tree?"

"'Cause I figured it out on my own," he replied, smirking now. "You're motivated by danger. That's when you're in your element. By life-or-death. You've got no sense of self-preservation until it's down to the wire, and you _have_ to fight."

"Sink or swim."

"Climb or fall."

No one mentioned that not so long ago, she'd chose to fall _and_ sink. Paul considered this progress on both their parts.

And then she surprised him, in that meek, broken tone of hers. "Thanks Paul."

It was a far cry from insults and slaps; that pleased both Paul and the wolf. "No problem birdie. Come on, we better get you home before your dad flips." That, and Paul just really needed to get out of there, and clear his head. It probably wouldn't hurt to report to Sam. Swan looked half to falling asleep where she stood, no doubt exhausted by the climb and crying.

They walked in silence. Paul wasn't much of a talker, and he had a feeling she wasn't either. "Get some sleep," he said, casual and cool. A little distance probably wouldn't hurt."See you around."

"Yeah," she murmured, fingers curling over the backdoor knob. "Maybe."

Dread, a hot-cold rush of dread burned through him. He remembered the way she'd stood outside, bleeding and crying and smelling of despair. Who had she been talking to then? Another figment? Another hallucination?

Just how deep did her worries run?

_I'm in over my head. _

**TBC**


	7. It's not skeletons in your closet

**Nothing wrong with a bleeding-heart. **

**Friend [frend]**

noun

**1.**

a person attached to another by feelings of affection or personal regard.

**2.**

a person who gives assistance; patron; supporter: _friends __of __the__ Boston __Symphony_.

**3.**

a person who is on good terms with another; a person who is not hostile:_Who __goes __there? __Friend __or __foe?_

_**Still March 18th, Sunday**_

Paul left Swan in Forks, and books it back to La Push. He could feel where the boarder lays. It slid over his skin like a blanket, heavy with words like _safe_ and _home_. He'd be more bitter about losing the chance to leave the Rez if it didn't feel so right to be there. Part of him knew without a doubt that at least some of that just-right feeling came with the curse -ahem- blessing. But then, the Rez had felt like home before, too. If Paul had ever entertained the idea of leaving, it was half-baked. Sure, he'd wanted out, but it wasn't so much out of the _Rez_, as it was out of the piss poor, single-parent life-style so many had fallen too.

_'Ah Paul,'_ Jared cooed, chasing after Paul's thoughts._ 'You're all heart. I always knew you'd be a family man.' _

_'Shut it bitch,'_ Paul snapped back, but there was no heat in it. There never was, with Jared. The mental invasion wasn't exactly pleasant on a good day, but Jared knew him well enough that he didn't need a spiritual connection to see what Paul was thinking. The guy could read him like a book.

_'What were you doing at the Swan place?'_ Jared asked, falling in line beside Paul as they did a patrol run. There was no Alpha order, but the drive to see there Rez safe was strong enough that most the wolves found themselves pacing it's boarders anyway. It wasn't exactly a short trip, but it was hardly a hardship when you had some one to run with._ 'It got anything to do with the way Jacob was flipping his shit earlier? Sam had to call Leah back to calm his ass down.' _

Paul chuckled._ 'He thinks I fucked Swan. Swan let him too. Girl is not happy.' _

_ 'No,' Ja_red thought with a long-suffering sigh. Images of Leah and her brooding fluttered through her mind. _'I suppose she isn't.' _ Jared had drawn the same conclusion as Paul had; Swan was going to be another Leah.

It made Paul bristle, though he'd thought the same thing only hours ago. He shifted back to two legs, and let the cool breeze wash over his naked skin. "I don't think she's like Leah," he said, watching as Jared phased human. "But she _is_ kind of fucked in the head."

Jared nodded, as together they picked apart a barely-there path. No scent in the air, but the memory of a foot print still lingered. The trail was cold, but worth noting. "So you...what? You took her home? You were there for a while. I saw you leave with her early this morning."

Paul rolled his eyes; no where on the Rez was safe from someones prying eyes. Jared probably saw Paul as he was sneaking out of Kim's bedroom window. "Yeah, she was pretty messed up so I drove her home. Embry dumped her drunk ass in my bed last night." He left out the part where he had to hold her hair while she puked in his kitchen sink, in the nude. Every girl deserved a little dignity, after all, and Swan had very little to spare.

Laughing outright, Jared shook his head. "Which would explain why Jacob thought you two slept together. Wonder why Swan went with it?"

"Probably feeling a little petty." Paul was sure of it, having found himself the bad end of a few vindictive girls. "She's just got a lot of shit going on. Having your best friend decide to check out on you would suck.

"You're being oddly sympathetic for the, and I'm quoting you verbatim here, the _filthy leech lover_," Jared commented, side-eying Paul with a speculation gaze. "I'm just saying."

Paul shrugged. Maybe he sounded sympathetic because he was sympathetic. Jared had phased a full two months before Paul. Those were the worst two months of Paul's life. From what Paul could tell, Jacob was Swan's Jared. Her go-to man. The friend she'd poured way to much into. It wasn't emotionally healthy (Paul learned that in those two months). And maybe it was just because he didn't want to see his Pack get fucked over because one little girl couldn't keep her shit together. Yeah, he was going to go with that.

"We're not all imprinted, you know?" Of course Jared knew. "So maybe I don't want Sam laying down some bullshit Alpha law about how no one can date until they're done phasing. Because who the fuck knows when that will be? A man has needs, you know? And so what if I don't have relationship-needs. I wouldn't put it past Sam to ban sticking your dick in anything other then your God-given bitch." Jared made a noise, mildly insulted and not a little threatening. "Er...imprint. So yeah, I'd rather not see Swan fall to shit, just when Jacob got her head halfway out of them' leeches ass."

Jared's searching look only deepened, but he shrugged it off. "So what? You're gonna play best friend until you can be sure she ain't gonna go all...all Glen Close in Fatal Attraction on someone? 'Cause for one, I don't think it's a good idea to mess with her head more if she's as close to losing it as you say, and for two, you kind of suck at being a friend to any one that isn't me. I don't think you could pretend. Watching you try to play nice is like watching a squirrel try to shit an acorn whole. It's painful to watch."

Paul scoffed, reeling back a little. "For one," he said mockingly. "I am an awesome friend. And for two, I don't intend to play nice with Swan. I was exactly as I always am today and she was fine. In fact, I think the little shit likes it."

"Bella Swan doesn't strike me as a masochist. She kind of looks like a light wind could knock her over. Maybe not even a light wind. Maybe a ceiling fan. Or heavy breathing."

Paul gave him a flat look. "She dated vampires and we've both seen the way she jumps into danger at every freaking turn. " Paul meant it too; the girl clearly had an _issue_. "And hey, if she can handle getting all up on a leech lover, she can handle me."

"So you're really going to befriend Bella?" Jared didn't have to sound so incredulous. Paul was totally capable of making friends. "Paul, you haven't gone out of your way to make a friend ever. I'm pretty sure the only reason we're friends, is because your mom stuck you in my playpen and you were too little to escape on your own and refuse any type of social interaction."

And okay, maybe all that was true. Paul didn't feel the desire to over-populate himself with friends. In his unofficial capacity of Best Bro, Jared easily filled in for any of Paul's frienship needs. Why ruin that? It worked.

"I didn't say I was going to be her friend anyway. Don't put words in my mouth. I said I was going to make sure she didn't lose her shit and fuck up life even more for the pack." Paul made a face, the same face he always made when Jared was annoying him. "Look, I just think she could use a little guidance."

Blinking at him, Jared's face was completely blank. "You're going to guide Bella Swan? Into what? A wall? There's little love between you two. And it's not like you've got your shit together, much. I'm not trying to pick at you dude, I'm just curious."

_Nosy_. And probably curious. And knowing Jared, he was undoubtedly worried, because worried was his default emotion. "Fuck you and the high horse you rode in on, dickmunch. Fuck it, you'll see it in Sam's head after I tell him anyway. I think Swan going through withdrawal."

"Withdrawal." Again with the blank face. If he were any one but Jared, Paul would have punched him by now.

"Leech withdrawal. She's got all the signs. Can't sleep, can't eat, gets the shakes. Spaces out. Kind of unstable." He kept the hallucinations silent, and the nightmares. Those seemed too personal. "Not to mention she looks like a fucking addict. And you know what those blood suckers do to humans. Get all up on them, get em' fucking high on the freaking scent of them. Swan practically fucking lived in that house. Can you imagine what that could do to a human's head? She thinks they _loved_ her." If that wasn't a sign of mental instability, Paul didn't know what was.

Expression pinched, Jared turned away with a thoughtful look. "God, we really fucked up on that one."

"We should have steered her clear or warned the Cullen's off," Paul agreed. It weighed on them heavily, he, Jared and Sam. They'd been the first to phase, had seen the Swan girl fall hopelessly for the Cullen's act. But they hadn't done a thing about it. They hadn't realized that killing humans wasn't the worst thing a leech could do. "I don't know, Jay. I feel like Swan's our responsibility or some shit."

He hadn't realized the truth behind the words until he'd said them. Swan was their responsibility. They were protectors, but they hadn't protected her. She might have lined herself up with the Cullen's, but what did they expect? She was one human against an entire coven. Yeah, saying they dropped the ball was a bit of a fucking understatement.

Heaving a deep sigh, Jared nodded. "And it's got to be you. I mean, I'd have suggested Emily if it was just teenage girl crap, or even Leah if it wasn't well...Leah." Every one found Leah disagreeable (even Imprinted, she was still sort of a surly bitch). It didn't seem fair to force her on anyone let alone emotionally ill-equipped girls with crippling vampire-based abandonment issues.

"Yeah." Honestly, Paul had briefly entertained the idea of foisting Swan off on Emily or something, someone more apt at dealing with emotional bullshit. But in the end, it had to be Paul. No one else knew a single thing about addiction and with drawl. "Plus, I think she might need someone to kick her ass in shape. Emily's to soft, you know? Girl's got enough people walking on eggshells around her. And I'm guessing Leah is the last person Swan wants to see." The first time Leah had seen Emily after the imprint, she'd thrown a dinner plate at Sam's face. Considering Swan was far more...unstable... than Leah, well...yeah, best to just keep them apart. "I have no idea how you even go about detoxing a vampire addict."

"One step at a time," Jared mused. He gave Paul another searching, thurough look. "It's good that your doing this. Even if it is for mildly selfish reasons."

They finished there impromptu patrol, and ran into Sam along the way. Jared headed home with one parting cuff upside Paul's head. Explaining the situation, and Paul's theory on Swan was as easy as phasing. Sam was...quiet, for the lack of a better word. Not that the man was ever anything but. But a heavy weight settled in around them, and Sam sighed.

"You have to take this seriously," he told Paul gravely. "This isn't a game. Swan is in a delicate position right now. Bella needs friends, she needs people she can trust. Unlike with Leah, we have the opportunity to be there for her. We can avoid...another unnecessary situation. If you're going to be there for her-"

"Woah," Paul put his hand up. "You're getting this all wrong, Sam. I'm not playing Jacob, okay? Hell no. I'm not signing up to be snotty, tear-covered shoulder. Call in another wolf, buddy, because I'm putting my foot down. Will I help detox her? Absolutely. Will I paint her nails and talk about the cutest boy in math class? Fuck no." Paul shook out his hands, shook out the anger building up in him. _Not now_. "Swan doesn't need me to be her friend," he said adamantly, and without hesitance. It was the truth. "She needs some one to toss her twenty feet up a tree and make her climb down all by herself."

Sam's hard look was unwavering. "You put Bella Swan in a tree?"

"Yes I did," Paul replied shamelessly. "And she got down all by herself. That's what she needs. She is_ mind-fucked_ Sam." More than Paul could possibly explain. "Those vampires...they got all up in her shit, and left her inside out." _Dead, hallow, rotting._ " How have none of you dumb-fucks noticed? Seriously." Clearly he was surrounded by a pack of fucking idiots, Paul swore it.

"Most of the pack -Jacob excluded- has had very little dealings with Swan," Sam admitted, with a tilt of his head. "Fine. However, I want you to do your best to reforge the bond broken between Jacob and Bella. I think that would be good for...every one involved."

Paul blinked at him. "Yeah, no. I mean, do I look like the kind of guy to go around kissing boo-boos?"

Sam gave him another amused glance. "Consider it your punishment for lying to my Second. You know very well that while we may imprint, a wolf does not forget those he chose himself. Jacob still loves Bella, even if that love is a candle compared to the Leah's fire. But you hurt him, and intentionally, and you lead Bella to hurt him too. You know better. You will do what you can to repair the friendship between Jacob Black and Bella Swan."

Paul waited for it, that little frisson of fire shooting down is spine that cemented an alpha order into him. But it didn't come. "What? No smack-down?"

Chuffing out a soft laugh, Sam smiled. "I'd like to think your a good enough person that you wouldn't require an Alpha order to do something _nice_."

"Well," Paul kicked the dirt beneath his toes and huffed. "What the fuck do you know?"

The thing with Swan was...Paul wasn't really sure how to approach this shit. He considered asking his mom how she dealt with his dad, but tossed the idea. Whatever situation he was rocking with the Swan girl, it was confidential. Plus, knowing his mother, she'd assume the Sheriff's kid was addicted to meth and take it upon herself to save her. His mother was nothing if not a bleeding heart, and Paul didn't need her all up in his business.

So, Paul did what Paul did best. He ignored it. Anyway, he couldn't help Swan until she wanted help. The ball was in her court. She'd call him out when she was ready. In theory.

That theory came to fruition two days later and not in anyway like Paul had expected.

**March 20th, Tuesday**

Having steadfastly avoided any confrontation for two days, Paul should have seen the fist come flying. But he didn't. Jared was on him before he could retaliate, and Sam was on Jacob, Alpha ordering him to stand down much to Paul's delight. Blood ran freely from his nose, over his mouth and down his chin. His smile was probably a gruesome thing to see.

"Bee in your bonnet, baby Alpha?" He asked nastily, licking blood from his teeth. His nose was broken, and it sent adrenalin rushing through his veins, lighting every single never on fire along the way. "Thought I smelled tuna. Only pussy's sucker punch, _kiddo_."

Jacob snarled, snapping forward against Sam's arms. "I should have known you were lying. Bella would never-"

"Lie to you too?" He licked is lips and spat the blood spit at Jacob's feet. "Your precious baby B was all for it, Jake. Remember that."

"She's hurt!" A vein throbbed in Jacob's temple. "Stay away from her. She doesn't need you—-"

"That's enough," Sam barked. "Stand down, the both of you."

Paul felt himself stumble back, spine snapping straight.

"Jacob," Sam addressed his second with sharp eyes. "Paul has already received his punishment for his offense. Just like you'll receive yours for this one. Why do you guys have to do this to me?" He dropped his prim and proper Alpha act with a sigh. "Why do you have to put me in these bullshit positions? Christ. Look Jake, you're going to have to get over your snit with Paul because he's going to be spending a little more time with Bella-"

"What?" Jacob squawked like the little priss he was.

Stepping up, Paul lifted his chin, eyes pinned on Jacob. "You heard him. I don't know how you missed it Jake, all those times you had your nose up Swan's ass-"

"Paul, enough." Sam stepped between them. "It's come to our attention, through Paul, that Bella is displaying signs of withdrawl-"

"Bella does not do drugs," Jacob spat vehemently. "Paul's lying-"

"Jake," Sam sighed. "Just listen, okay? Paul's got...he's got a point. We're not talking drugs. Paul thinks Bella's addicted to whatever those leeches put out. Think about it Jake. She doesn't sleep, she's lost so much weight, she shuts down on herself, can barely-"

"I get it," Jake huffed. "What the hell does it have to do with Paul?"

Sam's mouth pulled into a tight line. "Paul's the best choice. Don't question me on this."

"Seriously?" Jacob twitched, but Paul knew there was no Alpha order in Sam's demand. "Fine, whatever. But he can't turn Bella against me any more. Tell him-"

"He already has." Paul rolled his eyes. "And I never did in the first place. You're the one who assumed we fucked. Did I go with it? Fuck yeah I did. You should have seen your face. But I didn't expect Swan to go with it too. That was all on her. So get over yourself, Black. Don't play victim, it's not pretty."

"Paul," Sam warned. "We, as a pack, should have did better to protect Bella Swan. We make up for that now. We let her be be misguided, let herself believe she was loved and accepted by a family of Vampires, and we let her be hurt and abandoned by them too. I want her to know she's safe here, that on the Rez, she will never be abandoned. I want her to know that here she will find friends." He shot Jake a look, and then turned his eyes back to the rest of the pack. "The Sheriff is considered family here, honorary Brother of Billy Black himself. That makes Bella Swan family too."

Bleeding hearts; Paul was surrounded by _bleeding hearts_. He knew Sam was haunted by that image of Swan in the forest, because those nightmares bled into Paul's own. But this wasn't even just about that; this was about Leah too. Sam saw another girl bastardized by Imprinting, and he refused to let her be abandoned like Leah had. Sam would make it right though, even if that meant taking Swan in as their own personal stray.

"If that's it?" Paul asked, scratching at the flaking blood on his face. "I have better places to be."

Sam frowned at him, and Jake sneered, but they both let him go without another word.

He didn't have a destination in mind, anywhere that wasn't there was fine by him. He wandered, barefoot through the snowy March mush coating the forest floor, until the trees began to thin, and the road was visible.

As was Bella Swan, frowning down at the open hood of her truck.

"Need a hand, birdie?" He called out, smirking when she jumped. He cut through the trees a little faster, aware of the weight of her eyes on him as he made his he rounded her truck. He still felt a little feral, jittery from the fight that didn't happen, and the smell of his own blood on his face. He should have phased as soon as he hit the woods."Jake didn't say you were dropping by the Rez today."

She was staring down at the ticking engine, breath making clouds before her."I wasn't coming to see Jake."

Stepping up to the front fender, Paul sidled up beside her. He knew absolute shit-all about cars. "That so?"

"I..." She swallowed, and turned her head to look up at him. "I just...I need to talk."

Taking the first step already; Paul was very nearly proud. And a proud Paul was a cocky one. He could feel himself smirking even as he looked down at her, I-Told-You-So words already dancing on his tongue.

But they fell flat as he saw her, and it wasn't that hallow-dead-decaying image that seemed to haunt him. It was broken though, those wide eyes revealing such bitter depths Paul was sure he was in danger of drowning. It was like a window breaking, revealing a clearer picture of something he'd already seen. She looked...like nothing he'd ever seen before. But there was hope there too, the nervous kind of hope you're not sure you should believe in. She needed to talk, and she'd come to him, and that was just fucking dandy, because... He swallowed, heart hammering in his chest.

Paul had imprinted.

On Bella Swan.

**A/N** Any one catching the pattern? It's not much of a pattern yet, but it's there.


	8. A liar is just an actor without talent

**I'll meet you at the talent show. **

**Gift [gift]: _noun_**

4. A special ability or capacity; natural endowment; talent: _the gift of saying the right thing at the right time._

* * *

**Tuesday, March 20th. **  
**Still.**

Imprinted.

On Bella Swan.

The very idea of it refused to register; the magnitude of the situation softened by its sheer _i__mpossibility_. It...could not happen, except for that it had. He was imprinted, imprinting, that very moment. On Bella Swan. He couldn't deny it, as he stood there, staring at her as every wayward puzzle piece in his life snap into place, all around her.

Okay.

_Okay_.

Okay. Paul could handle this. Paul had this shit on lock. He imprinted; so fucking what. Did he have some questions? You bet your ass he did. Like, why now? _Why now?_

_Not now, not now, always, forever, always;_ his wolf clawed beneath the surface of his skin, demanding and violent – more violent than was usual. _The girl is mine, mine, forever, not now, always, not now, always._

_Not now_, he echoed it, keeping his face calm though he was honestly anything but. _No__t now. _The last thing Paul needed right now was to freak out and phase in front of Bella. He rocked back on his heels, and took a moment to shove the wolf back. His wolf had always been a... a particularly feral thing, emotions running more deeply than Paul was comfortable with.

It wasn't that Paul wasn't _in-touch_ with his emotions. He was as in-touch with them as any other red-blooded teenage male. No, it was that his wolf tended to wear their shared heart on Paul's sleeve. He honestly wasn't surprised to find it was so vehement when dealing with an imprint. His wolf was violently passionate about _everything_; the pack, leeches, hunting, killing. It wasn't any wonder it would act as it had, to their imprint.

Bella Swan.

They were silent for a long moment, Paul staring and Bella looking anywhere that wasn't him. The circles beneath her eyes were as dark as ever, and her lashes looked wet. She smelled sharp, like bar soap and well water. Her hair was damp, the tips curling like they had that day he'd trapped her in Sam's bathroom. But this time, her heart wasn't racing, and she wasn't shaking. She didn't fear him like she had. The irony in that was he was less in control now than he had been then.

He saw it all. Paul was staring.

"I guess I should have called," she murmured, picking at the peeling red-orange paint of her truck. It flaked and crumbled, filling the air with the stifling scent of old rust. "But I didn't have your number. I just...you said that you'd...I don't know what you said. I don't know what I was thinking. I just needed to talk." She sighed, long suffering and tired.

She wanted to talk to him. Whether the emphasis was on '_wanted_' or '_him_', Paul really wasn't sure what to say about that, so he decided to just not acknowledge it. "I don't know shit about cars," Paul admitted, with little shame. "You got your cell on you?" They'd need to call Jake. This piece of shit was his problem, as far as Paul was concerned.

She shifted on her feet, looking anywhere but his face. "No, uh, I don't own one. I mean it's Forks. You can stand on one side of town, and still be able to spit on the other."

Paul didn't mean to stare, but that...that sounded suspiciously like a joke. "Right," he said, sounding bemused even to his own ears. He tilted his head to the side to catch his eye, but she looked away again, eyes staring steadfast at the hot engine before them. Paul patted his pockets for his own phone – a cheap, bulky pre-paid thing he'd bought at a gas station. "No charge. Look, you're still about four miles out from the Rez, and it smells like it's going to rain."

Her shoulders fell, but she balled her fists at her side in some sign of determination. "Um, I mean, if it isn't too much trouble, can you run back to La Push and call my dad?" She made a face, and bit her lip. It must have been a habit of hers; there was an old bruise there, a line of purple camouflaged in her natural pink. "I mean, if you weren't doing something else. Were you, uh...were you headed somewhere?"

Paul watched her side-eye his bare chest and equally bare feet. "Nah, just out for a run. And you're a bigger dumb ass than I originally thought if you think I'm going to leave you out here on your own. You know what kind of shit lurks in these woods, right?"

Her hands curled over the edge of the truck, pale palms stained with smears of black grease. "Werewolves," she said pointedly, shaking her hair so it curtained her face.

"Be still my heart," Paul said dramatically, feeling a smile curl at his mouth. "Two jokes? In one day? Who the fuck are you and what have you done with Swan?"

She took a deep breath, eyes darting to his and then away again. "I've been thinking about what you said." She reached out to twist the engine oil cap on tighter. Her hands were filthy, black grease and dusty smudges of red-orange; she didn't seem to care. "And I guess...I don't know, I guess I just want to get better. I don't want to live like I'm going to die any day now."

The resignation in her voice made his gut clench. It didn't sound as if she was suicidal, rather that she just didn't expect to live much longer. "First step is admitting, and shit. So, that's...good. Well, grab your shit out of the truck, and we'll head for La Push."

"You didn't drive."

"Nope, but I can still give you a ride." The familiar innuendo rolled of his tongue with little hesitance. Paul couldn't tell if Bella had ignored it, or it simply went over her head. So he went for broke, and tossed out another. "I've never barebacked anyone before." Not even a twitch. Huh. "Just get your shit. If we hurry, I can have us on the Rez before the rain hits."

As she gathered her bag from the truck, Paul fished his phone back out of his pocket and shot Jared a text. '_It finally happened.' _He shoved it hastily back in his pocket before Bella could see it wasn't dead. He'd lied of course; he just wanted to get her _on him._

He took a moment to smile; at least imprinting hadn't changed that part of him.

Bella locked the truck door and slammed it closed. "I don't know about this," she told her shoes, as she met him on the muddy curb.

Alright, the evasive thing was starting to get on his nerves. "What's with the side-eye, birdie? I got something on my face?"

"Blood," Bella blurted out, looking up at him with wide eyes. He saw a flash of that dark, dreadful thing – dying, decaying, rotting – before she looked away. "You're covered in blood," she murmured, voice fading to a whisper. "Again."

Paul looked up and caught site of his reflecting in the mirror of the truck. "Would it help if I told you it was mine this time?" It probably spoke volumes about his life that Paul forgot he was covered in his own blood. "Jacob got in a cheap shot."

"What?" Her eyes were on him again, and it was just like being punched all over again. _Is this what Jared and Sam felt__?_ Paul had to wonder. If they did, Paul wondered how they could handle so much...so _much_ hitting them all at once. "Because of -"

"Yeah," Paul cut her off with a nonchalant shrug, looking away before her eyes met his again. "Little shit got me out of nowhere and clocked me solid. Had he done it like a _man_, he wouldn't have got me in the face, I can tell you that." _Little bitch_, he wanted to say, but he knew she still cared about Jacob. They'd be friends again one day; it wouldn't do for Paul to smack-talk the baby Alpha too much.

"I can't believe him!" She looked truly upset, and Paul wanted to smirk, but checked himself. They walked down the side of the road at a slow -human- pace. "It's not his business who I do, or don't—-"

"He just cares," Paul reasoned. "He still cares, Swan. Leah didn't make him forget you, you know? Sam didn't forget Leah when he got Emily. It's still there, all that shit Jacob felt for you. He still loves you, you know? It's just...re-prioritized. You're one step below Leah now, and probably one above Billy."

"I'm not above his dad," she denied instantly, giving him an incredulous look. Her anger at Jacob seemed to cancel out her squeamishness. "Jacob _loves_ his dad."

"Exactly," Paul reasoned easily. He gave her a smug look, as he led her through the slushy, snow-filled bank, towards the trees. "I've been in his head, birdie. I've seen it, you know? You guys can be friends. When you're ready," he added. "No one expects you to just check your baggage, you know?"

"I don't have baggage," she grumbled, and then snorted. "Whatever. I just...This is going to sound really bad, but I thought that maybe I could be happy with Jacob."

Paul pulled her along by the sleeve of her shirt, and ignored it when she stumbled. She'd never learn to be more sure-footed if someone always caught her. "That doesn't sound bad."

"I think I was prepared to settle," she admitted, with a long exhaled breath. "So I don't know why I feel like my chance at being happy was ripped away. I don't know why I feel this way."

They were talking, Paul realized, relieved that it was this easy. He'd been prepared to mind-fuck answers out of her; force her to see the truth. He knew, of course, that it wouldn't all be this easy, but it was a start. "You feel how you feel, and that's _that_. Don't over analyze shit; you let yourself think on it too much, and you'll never let it go. You wanted to be happy, Jacob could do that. Call it settling, if you want, but it sounds to me like you were just trying to move on, anyway you could."

"Yeah, I don't know about that." She shot him a wary look, like she couldn't trust him with what she wanted to say.

"Anything you tell me will get back to the pack," he answered honestly. "I can't help it. I can tell you that they won't bring it up. We run on a strict policy of don't-ask-don't-tell."

Skeptically, she sighed and frowned. "You know, you're the only person who's offered to talk about it?" It was clearly an evasive maneuver, and not at all what she'd originally intended to say. "Not even Jacob. He never pushed."

"I'm not pushing," Paul told her. He wouldn't push; it would get them nowhere fast. No, what he'd do was talk her into spilling it all, and making her feel like it was her idea. Paul was good at that.

She nodded. "Yeah, no, I know you're not. It's just...It kind of feels like it's enough that you asked at all. Even after I found out Jacob knew about it all, I didn't realize I could talk about...it."

"Them," Paul corrected. "You've been keeping them a secret because you...what? Feel like you should? Do you still feel obligated to them? Do you feel like you...owe them?"

"Yes. No. Yes." She faltered, eyes flashing with that familiar panic. "I...it feels like betrayal," she admitted, breathlessly. "I feel like I'm betraying them, even after-"

Paul curled his hand over her wrist and hoped desperately that she wouldn't cry. "No." They'd come to a standstill in the forest, raised voices sending birds a flutter from the snow-heavy branches above. "There is nothing left to betray," he growled. "There's _no one here to betray._"

"I know!" She cried out, but didn't cry. "I know that, and that...hurts! Okay? It hurts that they left me, that I didn't matter. It hurts that they...they made me feel like I was important, that I meant something, and then they just left-"

So it wasn't just about Edward Cullen.

"You do matter," he cut her off, pulling her closer. He could tell her how she mattered to him in one simple word, and she'd understand it with no little doubt. Bella Swan knew about imprinting. But when he opened his mouth, the words wouldn't come out. They felt like a cop-out. Telling Bella she mattered to him because the Gods deemed it so, it wouldn't solve anything. Oh, it would be answer enough for her; she'd cling to it shamelessly, he knew. She'd accept it, without any kind of protest, without ever healing. No, that wasn't what she needed. Not yet.

He'd tell her -show her- that she mattered, once she believed it herself.

"You matter to a lot of people. Your dad. Jake. Your mother; you matter to her, don't you?" Paul honestly didn't know. He'd never heard a good word said about Renee, but then, the only words he heard came from the mouth of Billy Black.

"Yes," Bella said in a voice that brokered no room for doubt. The surety sounded good on her, where she so often doubted herself. "Of course she does."

"You matter." His point made, Paul didn't press the subject. "Front or back?" He asked, releasing her wrist. Before he could reiterate the vague question, Bella replied.

"Front, if you don't mind. Piggy-back makes me nauseous. It helps if I can hide my face, I guess." She shifted on her feet. "Stop looking at me like that."

"I'm not looking at you like anything." He was. She'd clearly done this before, and with a leech. "Alright, on three."

It was awkward, with her tucked up against his chest. She held herself rigidly, even as he struggled to cup his palms around anything that wasn't her ass. Paul wasn't really in the mood to be accused of _bad-touch, _especially by his imprint.

More frightening really, was the idea that she wouldn't accuse him at all, were he to get a little handsy.

_ 'I think I was prepared to settle.'_

So Paul kept his hands to himself, one arm curled under her ass, and the other over her back, a protective cage. He settled his hand against the thin meat of her thigh as she tucked herself under his chin, ankles locked behind his back. It was weirdly intimate for two veritable strangers. He could feel her heart beat against his own and the warm puff-puff-puff of her breath against his collar bone.

The wolf purred, soothed by the long line of contact between their bodies, but Paul...fought not to just throw her over his shoulder and haul her off like a caveman. This way was too intimate, like a walking-cuddle. Paul never really bothered to do 'intimate'. He could smell her hair, feel it tickling against his neck. Her hands were curled into the front of his shirt, tight enough to turn her knuckles white, and when he looked down, he could see her eyes were clenched tightly closed.

Paul wasn't ashamed to admit he nearly dropped her on her ass as they tore through the tree line behind his and Embry's house. She wobbled where she stood, absentmindedly clutching his arm as she regained her balance.

"Where have you been?" Embry asked, busting out the back door. He looked worried, brow pulled together, and Paul was immediately on alert. "Leah caught a scent crossing the 101, and followed it without back-up. The leech caught her by surprise; she's hurt but she'll heal. The trail is still hot. Sam wants everyone on it." Embry frowned at Bella. "What are you doing here? Where's your truck?"

"It broke down," Paul answered before she could, urging her toward the back door. "I found her on the side of the road, Embry. On 101, about four miles out."

Embry's mouth pulled tight. "Leah caught the scent three miles out, not twenty minutes ago." He turned to Bella once again, and while his words weren't unkind, they held a spark of accusation. "Were you expecting...a friend?"

"I..." She closed her eyes, visibly shaking. "I don't have any of those kind of friends, but...this vampire..." Paul watched as her skin visibly paled. "A redhead, right?"

Embry's face was blank, but Paul could hear the stutter in his heart. "How do you know that?"

"Her name is Victoria," Bella told him, eyes still closed. "She's...The vampire that did this?" Lifting her arm, she flashed the shimmery crescent scar on her wrist. "It was her mate. The Cullen's killed him. I knew it; I _knew_ she was out there. I can feel it, when she's close. It makes my heart race, and my skin go numb and-" She shuddered, opening her eyes. "I think she's coming for me."

Victoria; where had Paul heard that name before? It hit him like a brick to the face. He'd heard it not once, but twice. The French bastard they'd tore up in the meadow, he'd spoken that name to Bella. And Bella, she'd spoken that name herself, crying and bleeding and pleading to nothing and the setting sun, the day Jacob had imprinted.

_'I know you're out there,__ Victoria and...and I just wanted you to know that you can have me. If you don't kill me soon well...I can't live like this. Take your chance before I take it from you.'_

The leech had almost had her. One more mile, and Bella would have been gone. If Leah hadn't bothered to follow protocol and go for back up, if Paul hadn't decided to go for a run..."Shit. She must have come down-wind. I didn't catch any scent from where I'd come."

"Wait!" Bella grabbed his arm so hard her nails bit into his skin. That frantic, broken, hollow look was back. "There's something...I don't know what you know about Vampires, but Edward said she was really...evasive, I guess. He said she was tricky, that they couldn't catch her. It wasn't just skill."

"What do you mean it wasn't just skill?" Embry asked, before Paul could. "What else is there?"

Bella shuddered, swallowing hard. Paul watched as she paled, eyes turning vacant and cold. "Some vampires, they have...they have gifts. The Cullen's, they...they-" Wrapping her arms around her middle, she shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I can't...I want...I can't tell you, I can't-"

He grabbed her face roughly, and shook her hard, until she blinked away that thousand-yard stare. "There's no one here to betray except _us_. Don't let the pack walk into something we might not be prepared for."

She looked up at him with a helpless, earnest look, and nodded gravely. "Gifts. Special things, that they can do. It's different, not every vampire gets one. The Cullens...some of them had them. Not all of them, but some. And Ed..." She shuddered again, so violently that Paul tore his hand away from her face. "Edward," she said more firmly. "He thought Victoria might have one. No one could ever catch her."

"Wait," Paul blinked, and frowned. "Wait, is this one of the nomads from before? There was a redhead. She was gone before I changed but...Sam showed us."

Bella nodded frantically. "Yes. There were three. You...the pack killed Laurent, in the meadow that day, you remember? He spoke of her. He said she was coming for me."

"And you didn't think to tell someone?" Paul was angry now and Bella flinched. "You didn't think to tell Jacob, to tell Sam, that a vampire was after you?"

Embry stepped forward, nudging Bella away from Paul. Paul let him; Embry was acting in her best interest after all, and that was all that mattered to Paul. It was Bella Swan; he'd need all the help he could, protecting her. Paul was going to have a hard enough time protecting her from _her__self_. "Hey, man-"

"It's my problem!" Bella cut him off, barring her teeth. She pushed Embry's hand away, and stepped forward, glaring at Paul. "She's my problem. Not yours-"

"Human!" Paul roared, poking her between the eyes with a fingertip. He pointed at himself next. "Werewolf. Who's better equipped for this shit?"

She shook her head, eyes flashing. "She's here for me. She's after _me_. I didn't want to drag you guys into this. I didn't want you to get hurt because of me."

"Protecting is what we do, Bella! It's what we're made for. There's seven of us, and one of you. You don't have to take on all of this yourself. It's what we're here for. " Embry's voice was gentle, but firm, as he curved his hand over her shoulder.

Her jaw clenched, lip wobbling. "She's already killing people because she can't get to me. If you protect me, if you got hurt protecting me... Leah's already hurt. And...it's just...it's my fault-"

"No!" Paul barked, and Bella jumped, eyes snapping open. "You're human, Bella! _Human_. You didn't send her an engraved fucking invitation to kill you. You didn't ask for this shit; none of the blame is yours. _It isn't your fault."_

"Leave her alone!" Jacob snapped from behind her, and Paul turned around to see half the pack emerging from the tree line. They'd have followed his and Bella's scent, Paul assumed.

He watched Sam place his hand on Jacob's arm and shake his head firmly. "Quiet, Jacob. Paul, Embry's caught you up to speed?" The others were there, sans Leah and Seth. Leah was probably laid up in bed at her mother's house, which meant Seth was on guard duty at Sam's. Quil and Jared were already phased, their hulking forms prowling the tree line, snouts pressed to the ground, and tails twitching.

"Yeah, and I've got some shit to share as well. Apparently Swan's been holding out on us." He fumbled in his pocket, and tossed Bella his phone. "Go to Emily's, and call your dad. Tell him you're spending the night. Kim will be there too. Don't leave; don't even go on the porch. Stay in the house."

Bella looked down at the bright lit phone. "You told me your phone was dead."

Paul froze as he stepped off the porch, shoulders pulling tight. "Just go to Emily's, Swan!" He snapped, pulling his t-shirt off, and letting it flutter to the ground. "Let's phase. Apparently we're not chasing after your generic blood sucker..."

He was in the air and phased before his shorts could hit the ground, paws sinking inches deep into the cold mud where he landed. Wordlessly, he showed the pack what Bella had said about the leech.

_'Gifts?'_ Sam sighed, world weary and tired. '_There's nothing about this in the books.'_

Paul snorted. _'There wouldn't be. Our Ancestors were never on first name basis with __leech-__lovers, were they? I__magine what else she could know. Alright, split up, and head out."_

Jacob lingered, even as Sam pulled north. They always paired together, and though it was never said, Paul knew it was because Sam meant to train Jacob as Alpha.

_ 'She told you about t__he Cullen__s. She spoke about Edward.' _It wasn't framed as a question. Even as Jacob spoke the words, the memory was drawn forward in Paul's mind.

_ 'Yeah, so?'_

_ 'She never talks about them. She just...doesn't. She can't. Not once in all the months I'd...' He shook his head, and snorted, paws digging irritably in the snowy mud. 'She's alright?'_

_ 'She came to me, dude.' _ Paul showed Jacob Bella, standing on the side of the road, pleading to talk. That and nothing more, though it was all there to be seen. Respectfully, Jacob didn't pry.

_ 'Right,' _Jacob sighed. _'Right.'_

_ 'Let's go Jake,' _Sam called for him, already headed toward the highway. Wordlessly, Jake turned to follow.

The others drifted, spreading out toward the east. Jared and Paul took to the coastline. Rain had already begun to fall, as they fell in line, shoulder to shoulder. _'What happened?'_ Jared asked, nosing at the ground.

_'What?'_

'_You texted me about something happening. What happened?'_

Paul paused, a mental frown staining his thoughts._ 'I don't remember.'_

_'You don't remember texting me? Dude it was like half an hour ago, if that.'_

_'No I remember texting you...I just don't remember what I was talking about. Probably Jacob finally punching me. Little bitch came out of __nowhere__, got me right in the nose.'_

_'You sure it was that?' _Jared sounded skeptical. _'Why text me that?'_

_'__Dude, I don't know. It probably wasn't important.'_

Jared seemed to accept that. _'So what's up with you and Swan?__ You called her Bella. Thought you had no intentions of going all buddy-buddy with her.'_

_'No I didn't.' _He'd never called her Bella before. Why would he start now?

_'Yes you did.' _Jared showed him, irrevocable proof that yes, he did call the birdie by her name. _'Several times. Are you okay?'_

_'What? No. I'm fine. I just...I don't know. She was spa__z__zing out. I needed to get my point acros__s.'_

_ 'So you called her 'Bella'?'_

_'It worked didn't it?'_ Paul asked with an irritable growl. _'Why the fuck are we talking about Swan?'_

_TBC_

**A/N **And again, he forgets. But, the first pieces of the puzzle are starting to fall in place. Paul can't remember, and that's going to bother him.


	9. Well, there went that plan

**A/n **Not beta'd, all mistakes are mine. Sorry about that. Will rectify soon.

**Hun-ger **[huhn-ger] – noun, verb

a strong, compelling desire or craving; t_o hunger for power._

**March 20, Still Tuesday. **

**\\\**

They didn't catch the leech. That was not to say Swan's information wasn't helpful. They came at her from all sides, instead of closing in on parallel lines. It was trickier, forcing a quarter of the pack forward, past her, when instincts told them they should move for the kill. The red-head was wily, but not entirely elusive.

She'd been badly damaged by the pack, Quill in particular, who had sank his teeth into her thigh, and then proceeded to roll like a fucking alligator. Paul couldn't mock him for it; it was surprisingly effective, and he'd nearly taken her entire leg off.

She'd taken to the trees shortly after, leaping from branch-to-branch, where they couldn't follow, and where the wind swept her scent away. No one expected her to attack for a while, while she healed and regained strength. Which meant they'd push harder to find her, while she was weakened.

Paul thought they did well with the new information, capture or not. Sam agreed, judging by the thin line of pleasure reverberating through the pack. It wasn't a capture, it wasn't a kill, but it was progress. That was more than they could say for months past.

Sam had dispersed the pack for runs and Rez patrol. Paul volunteered to run the boarder alone when Jared's mind began to wander toward Kim and he date he'd already put off twice. Of course, he didn't expect to be left alone for it. Sam stayed, as did Jacob. They stopped at the river, sluicing away blood -both there's and hers- when Jacob spoke.

"I didn't know about the leeches gifts," he said quietly, prodding at a long, think slash that decorated his stomach. "Bells never said."

Sam looked up at him in surprise. "You shouldn't feel guilty, Jacob. Swan heals at her own rate."

"She should have told me," Jake muttered, looking down to the frigid water. Snow still clung to the banks. "She should have trusted me-"

"It isn't that she trusts me," Paul cut him off, knowing where Jacob was headed. " Swan only told me what she knew because she was scared of the pack being hurt, and it being her fault. She'd never been put in the position where your safety was being threatened before because you coddled her, and kept the fact we were hunting this bitch from her. So don't get pissy with her. She would have told you, if she thought it could help you. She would have trusted you, if you'd trusted her."

Jacob's mouth snapped shut, but his lips curled back into the snarl. Anything he had to say was cut short by Sam.

"Enough." Sam shook his head, wet hair matted against his forehead. "This isn't the time. Jacob; we've talked about this. Paul volunteered to help Swan, for which you should be grateful."

Jacob blanched. "I just don't understand why it has to be Paul. I know he understands addicts." Some one must have explained to him about Paul's father. Paul didn't care, it wasn't exactly a secret. "I get that he understands, but Bella-"

Paul had had enough _But Bella's_. _But Bella's_ weren't going to help her get any better. She didn't need people to make exceptions for her bullshit. "You're not in the position to help her, and even if you were, she wouldn't accept it. You need to talk to Leah, I think. You need to ask her how she would have felt if, after leaving her for her cousin with no exception of coming back, Sam came to her and offered her his _pity_. Because that's all you have to offer, Jake. That and a shoulder to cry on, neither of which Swan needs."

Jacob bristled. "What do you know about what Bella needs-"

"Enough!" Sam stood on the mushy snow-covered banks, the shimmer of phasing already dancing across his skin. "He's not wrong. Swan's shown improvements already. I know you don't agree with how Paul is going about this thing, but you can't deny the progress."

"Progress?" Jacob looked as if he could deny it, brow pulling together as he set his mouth to a frown. "She had a fucking break down! He put her in a tree, Sam!"

Sam nodded his agreement. "But she spoke about them. I've seen her in your head Jacob, the way she fell apart at even the thought of them. She spoke about them-"

"She betrayed them," Paul corrected, remembering Swan's own words. "At least, that's how she feels about it." That made it better, or maybe worse. That made it _more_, somehow.

"Right. She betrayed them, and whatever hold they have on her, for you, for us, for the pack, for whatever. The fact of the matter is that she spoke of them, by name, and did not fall apart." Sam looked away, probably thinking about Swan in the woods again, or Swan the way Jacob saw her, falling apart and broken. "That's progress. Don't begrudge her that just because you don't like Paul. Swan deserves to get better."

Jacob's mouth tightened further. "Fine. I just don't understand why _Paul_ would even care at all."

Oh _right_. Because Paul was such a bad guy. Because Paul was so heartless. Because Paul didn't care about anything at all. Paul understood where the reputation came from, really he did. He could be cold, he could be blunt, he could be downright mean at times. But _never_ without cause, never without reason.

When it got right down to it, Paul was just a _realist_.

Paul got shit done where others were too afraid, too weak, or just too scared to do it. If that meant he broke a few hearts, or broke a few bones in his day, well it was what it was. The world couldn't be full of Jacobs and Jared's and Embry's; righteous bleeding hearts, the whole lot of them. There had to be Sams, firm unrelenting forces willing to sacrifice, and Pauls, with hands willing to get dirty, when the job called for it.

Even knowing his place, knowing his worth, Paul couldn't help but take a snap at Jacob. "Well, someone has to pick up the slack around here. Just be glad I'm willing to clean up the mess you made when you dropped the ball."

"I can't help imprinting," Jacob snarled, hands clenching at his sides. He held it together though, under the Alpha's watchful idea. But still, he was one foot-stomp away from a tantrum, and Paul wasn't above letting him know.

Paul laughed, and it was mean. "I wasn't talking about imprinting, _Baby Alpha_. Oh no, you failed Swan long before that."

Jacob looked...shattered, but Paul was unrelenting. It was unduly cruel, but not entirely incorrect. As Sam has said, they'd all failed the Swan girl long before the Cullens abandoned her. But Jacob hadn't done her any favors when she'd turned to him. He'd been blinded by her attention, and deluded himself into thinking the situation was more than what it was (a cry for help). And maybe she did care about Jacob; Paul thought she did. But it certainly didn't make her _extremely_ fucking concerning issues disappear.

Jacob put himself first, knowingly or not.

Paul waited for his chastisement, either at Jacob or Sam's hand, but both remained silent. It spoke volumes to just how guilty they felt, and Paul nodded, agreeing that they should. They _did_ drop the ball, and it _did_ leave a mess.

But Jacob was more guilty than the rest of them. He had his chance, and he didn't take it because he was foolish, and selfish, and liked that Swan relied on him. Paul didn't say as much out loud because he didn't have to. He knew it. Jacob knew it. Sam knew it. The rest of the pack wasn't fucking blind, either.

"That's what I thought." It sounded less cocky then he felt, but really, that was for the better. "Next time you want to pitch a fit because you don't think I'm the man for a mess, try remembering that's its your fucking mess in the first place."

He looked to Sam, who tilted his head toward the border with a nod. Paul phased, taking off so fast, he barely heard Sam send Jacob home. By foot, which was pretty much '_grounded_' for werewolves.

_'You shouldn't be so hard on him,'_ Sam told him, as he phased in._ 'He's...conflicted right now. It's been hard for him too.' _

_ 'Don't mistake him for you, Sam,' _Paul replied, almost daringly. Sam _was_ his Alpha, after all. But then, Sam had always allowed him a little more lenience. Paul like to think it was because Sam valued his opinion._ 'The shallow unhealthy thing he shared with Swan was nowhere near what you had with Leah. Jacob's...pining after what could have been, not what was. I won't coddle him for it.' _

Sam sighed, a mental shiver echoing between them, and the other wolves who remained quiet at the edges of their mind, Quil and Embry. _'You're taking this job very seriously.'It's more than I expected from you.' _

Paul was, possibly more than he expected when he'd offered. _'I don't like being doubted.' _He could admit that to Sam, who wouldn't judge him, or consider it a weakness.

_ 'It isn't that I doubt you. The girl just...she reminds me of a dandelion, one strong breeze from flying apart. And when I see you yelling at her like you did today, when I see slapping her in the face, when I see you sticking her in a tree, I can't help but wonder if that's your intention." _

Paul paused, nose buried in the snow, and looked up at his Alpha, where Sam was sniffing at at a tree root. _"Sometimes broken things are just broken. You can't fix them, just pick through the remains and salvage what you can. So yeah,_ _if that's what it takes, I won't stop to break her apart.' _

_'Like a phoenix? From the ashes reborn?' _Sam's tone was wry, but pleased. It was times like these that Paul felt...important. Sam did value his opinions, and he took the time to consider Paul's words, and ideas. He didn't write Paul off, like so many others had. It's what made Sam the great Alpha he was.

_ 'Well no, because this isn't Harry Potter, or some shit. Just...sometimes, you can't cling to what you were, because what you were doesn't work anymore.'Swan might not get better, she might not ever __make it back to what she was before the leeches fucked her shit up. She might come out of this something completely new. Or she might never really be okay.' _

**March 22, Thursday**

_(evening)_

Paul stared at his phone, at his sent messages. He still didn't remember what the text was about, and it bothered him. He wasn't prone to forgetting. Hell, he wasn't even prone to texting. Although that had less to do with aversions to modern technology and more that his phone was tiny and his fingers were huge.

Frowning, he rolled out of bed and headed for the kitchen. It was late, but he hadn't gotten to bed until the sun had rolled over the edge of the earth, painting the ocean in stripes of orange and blue. He scrolled through the list of recent calls, ingoing and outgoing, on his phone, before picking one and hitting _call_.

"Swan Residence," Swan answered with an air of preoccupation. Paul stayed silent for a moment, listening to the steady rhythm of her breath over the phone. "...Hello?"

"Hey birdie."

There was a thunk, and a series of unimaginative curses that wouldn't even offend a grandmother. Swan really was kind of a prude. "Paul? How did you even get my number?"

"It's listed," Paul lied. He didn't want to draw attention to his phone, or that he'd lied about it being dead. He couldn't remember _why_, he realized. He couldn't remember why it was important Swan not know they weren't exactly stranded. Only that apparently it was. "Hey, so I had a question."

She sucked in a sharp breath, surprised and hurt-sounding. "If this is about...about what we talked about before. The gifts and stuff...well, I'll tell you what I know. I don't want you guys getting hurt over...over this." _Over me. _

It wasn't at all what Paul wanted to ask. As much as he wanted to know, he wasn't going to push. She clearly wasn't ready and it was enough to know that the red-head has a little extra mojo, at that point. If nothing popped up, like more unexpected visitors, he fully intended to let her come to him.

"Whenever you're ready to talk," he said easily, drumming his fingers on the chipped Formica counter top. Absently, he traced his fingers along three deep gouges, where Embry had accidentally caught the counter in an effort to get to the door, the first time he phased in doors. "But that wasn't what I wanted to ask, actually."

"It wasn't?" She sounded surprised. "I thought...I mean, you were mad because I didn't tell you-"

Yes, Paul had been mad. He wasn't exactly _not_ mad now. "Doesn't mean I can go off making demands. You want to tell me, you tell me." He knew she'd tell him out of guilt alone, anyway. He gave it a week, unless the leech made an early come-back. "Anyway, I was just wondering uh...if I was acting weird the other day. Before the whole leech went down."

The silence practically echoed, it was so loud. "Weird?" She snorted. "Paul, I don't know you well enough to tell the difference between your normal and your weird."

"Fair point." There's another muffled thump, Swan's breath escaping in a hash puff. "What the hell are you doing over there, anyway?"

"Cleaning," she answered shortly, sounding a little breathless. "It's...it's a thing. That I do. To wear myself out."

"Whatever works." Paul supposed he could understand the appeal. Cleaning was kind of a mindless task. He'd seen glimpses of her borderline anal retentive ways in Jacobs memories, as she'd scrubbed Billy's kitchen until it sparkled. "Anyway, Sam wanted me to tell you-"

There was another thump, this time followed by a stuttering gasp. Faintly, he could hear Swan's heart breathing through the tinny speaker, fast and un-even. "I...I..._oh God_," Swan stuttered, swallowing loudly. She sounded _panicked_.

A thousand bad scenarios raced through his mind, all circling around that damn leech. "Swan?" Paul grabbed the car keys off the counter, and jammed his feet into what he hoped were matching shoes. "Hey, hey. Talk to me, I can hear you freaking out over there. Remember that breathing thing we talked about? Shit's important. What is it? What happened?"

"I tripped..." She laughed, a pained, hysterical sound. "I tripped on the floorboard and it...it came up and there's...there's... Why would he do this to me? It was all missing! I thought I was _crazy_. " Why would he leave it?"

Paul had no idea what she was talking about, only that apparently she wasn't under attack. He cut toward the road heading for La Push with a sigh. This smacked significantly of _girl-drama_, for which he wanted nothing to do. Still, he'd told Sam he'd try to help the Swan girl, and he'd practically bragged to Jacob that it would be no problem.

He found her on the floor in her room, glossy four-by-six photos scattered across the old carpet. She was staring at one with a particularly vacant expression. Paul could smell the faint scent of leech -_Cullen_- old but lingering.

She didn't look up when he entered, not even when he sat himself on the edge of her bed. No, she just tipped the picture in her hand forward, too her nose. "I can smell him," she said with no particular inflection. "I forgot what he smelled like." Her nostrils flared, as she clenched the photo tighter.

Paul leaned back and sighed. He knew what this was; the involuntary relapse. Any of the inadvertent progress he might have made shattered before his eyes as he watched her inhale deeply, eyes dilated and wide. She had that hollowed look again . The thousand-yard stare that honestly scared him, because he knew. He knew just what it was she was seeing.

That damn Cullen kid.

When she set the picture down, delicately tracing her fingers across the edge, he was expecting it. She flashed him a smile, mechanical but fairly convincing. Paul knew what this was, one part denial, one part I'll-Never-Do-It-Again. But it wasn't quite like a heroin addict, Swan didn't know she was getting herself high like this. Ignorance and addiction; what a frightening combination, he thought.

So it was, with that I'm-Fine smile on her face, Swan gave a depreciating laugh. He'd give her credit: she could act. "I'm sorry I worried you. I'm fine. That was just...I was surprised, I guess. You didn't have to come all the way over here."

"I was headed to Forks anyway," Paul lied, watching her pick herself up off the floor with stiff limbs. She smelled like bleach and pine-sol and panic. "You know what? You look like you could use some fresh air." Anything to get her out of the room.

Swan's smile faltered. "I should really finish the laundry downstairs." Her eyes flickered to the pictures littering her room, fingers twitching to touch.

First thing was first; he needed to get the tainted stuff out of her room. She wouldn't like it, but it had to be done. "It'll be here when you get back. I promise not to stick you in a tree again. Actually, I was thinking we could grab dinner. We can go to the diner in town."

She stared at him blankly. "I don't know..."

"As friends," he added, almost awkwardly. "You look like you could use a friend right now."

Swan paused, frowning hard enough to make a little wrinkle between her brows. "Is that what we are?"

"We could be. I'm not a bad guy, Swan." He wasn't entirely a _good_ guy either, but those things were more a matter of opinion. Without Jacob currently not in the picture, Paul was fairly sure he could swing that opinion in his favor. "You said you couldn't live like this any more, shut up in your room, in your head. I told you I'd help. Let's grab dinner, you can talk if you want, but I won't make you." It wouldn't do to push her, not when she was like this, all lit up on leech-scent.

"Why are you doing this?" Swan asked, as she pulled a brown hoodie off the back of her desk chair.

The answer was easy. "For my pack, of course. And because it's what we do."

"You protect," Swan nodded. "But there's...there's no threat here. No one's hurting me. I mean, I know you guys are hunting Victoria, but right now? What are you protecting me from?"

He tilted his head toward the picture that she'd picked back up. "Vampires."

Swan nodded again, slipping the picture into her pocket. The way she moved, so absently, Paul didn't think she realized what she was doing. "Alright. Just...let me grab my purse, I guess."

The diner was a small thing, with wood paneling and grease-sticky walls. Paul flashed a grin at Sue as he lead Swan toward one of the back booths, where there would be room enough for him to stretch his legs. She looked sadly at Swan, and gave Paul a curious look. There was nothing to be done for it though; he'd explain the situation later.

Paul ordered for Swan when she stared blankly at the menu, soup and a sandwich, and a burger for himself. "I need to make a phone call," he said, startling her from her thoughts. "I'll be right back."

Outside, he dialed Jared.

_"Paul? Whats going on?" _

"I need a favor." Paul watched Swan through the front window of the diner, where she stared blankly at the napkin dispenser, looking even more tiny in the high-back booth. "Can you head up to the Chiefs place, and raid Swan's room for anything that smells like leech?"

Jared snorted, sounding unamused. "_What have I told you about home invasion?" _

"It's only illegal if you get caught? Seriously though, Jay. I need you to do this for me. Swan said she can smell Cullen on these...these pictures, he hid under her floor board, or something. Honestly, she was sort of sobbing hysterically when she explained and I didn't catch it all. All I know is that I found her on the floor practically huffing a snap-shot like it was glue. So if you could just go clean her room out, that would be great."

_"Yeah man, I got it. You owe me though, you know? I'm breaking into the Chiefs house for you. Don't think I won't be cashing in on this favor later. With interest." _

"And everyone thinks I'm the douche bag in the pack," Paul huffed, before hanging up.

Swan was staring down at the photograph when Paul returned to the table, thumb flicking over the bent corner. "May I?" He asked, tugging it out of her hand. She held tight, frowning when it slipped from between her weak fingers.

It was of the pair of them, Cullen and Swan. She looked mesmerized, staring up at him with her wide brown eyes, mouth pulled up into a glossy pink smile. She was wearing make up, Paul realized, and a dark blue dress, hair pulled over her shoulder in a spill of healthy brown curls. The overall effect was pretty, and not at all like the girl he'd come to known. That wasn't to say Swan didn't have her charms, but mostly she looked tired. "Home coming?"

Swan stared at the photo as she spoke, mouth barely moving with every word. "That night was the first time I asked him to change me."

Paul tried not to react to the words, but it was hard. Anger, hot like coals, burned across his skin, and he nearly tore the picture in half. He wanted to shake her, he wanted to growl. But he didn't. Instead, he breathed deeply, and forced an half-interested smile. "Oh? And what did he have to say about that?"

"No." At first, Paul thought Swan was denying him the answer. "He said no. He always said no." She reached out for the picture, but Paul quickly set it aside, where she couldn't reach.

She stared at it regardless, where he'd tucked it between the bottles of condiments and sugar packets. God, it was like she was hypnotized. "You ever wonder why he said no?"

She looked up at him then, before returning her gaze to the photograph. "He told me he never wanted to damn someone like that. That he couldn't do that to me."

Noble. Also, probably bullshit. "Did you know that it's against the treaty? If they had changed you, the pack would have considered it an act of war. The pack would have been obligated to attack."

She looked away from him, and the photo, turning her eyes to the window. The view wasn't much, mushy gray snow banks, and rusty cars muted through a yellow stained window.

"How have you been sleeping? You said you were cleaning to wear yourself out. How's that working?" She didn't look like she'd been sleeping, that was for damn sure. But then, he expected her to be stressed after the leech incident. That had only been two days ago.

She shrugged, her narrow shoulders dwarfed in her hoodie. "It's been okay. I fall asleep now but...My dreams always wake me. But I guess it's a step in the right direction. It helps when I sleep on the couch."

"Any more screaming?" It was a touchy subject, he could tell by the way her shoulders jerked minutely, hands balling into tight-clenched fists.

"Less," she replied, stilted and quiet.

Sue brought them their food, taking her time to ruffle Paul's hair and ask about Swan's dad. In the aftermath of Harry's death and the truth about her children, Sue had stepped up on the council. She knew all about Swan's past with the Cullen's. "Oh, he's been working a lot lately," Swan had said. "They called him up to Seattle to consult on a case. He leaves tomorrow morning."

She picked at her sandwich while Paul ate his with his usual gusto. "We're not leaving until you eat," he all but sang, and smirked when she scowled. "Which is what my mother use to tell me when I was _three_. Want me to cut the crust off? Spoon feed you? Since you're acting like a baby, and all."

"I'm not a baby!" Swan snapped, flickering of true emotion pouring through that dull facade. "I'm...I'm just not hungry."

Reaching over the table, Paul ran his fingers through her messy hair. It was dull and lifeless, limp between his fingertips – nothing like in the picture. Pulling his hand away, he held the clump of tangled hair that came with it, in front of her face. "Your hair is falling out. I bet your missing periods. You are, aren't you?"

She flushed dully, and scowled. "That's...that's not your business. It's not even relevant."

Paul ignored her. Her opinion wasn't relevant, as far as Paul was concerned. "It's called Anorexia Nervosa. You starve yourself long enough, your body starts shutting down."

"I'm not anorexic!" She snapped in a hush, eyes wild. "I'm just not _hungry_. "

Paul shrugged, seemingly indifferent. Really though, he was worried. He'd thrown the period thing out there on a whim, but she'd practically confirmed it. "Eh, in the end it all boils down to you not eating to the point of malnutrition. Do you know what they do to anorexics in hospitals? Force feed them. By tubes. It's real classy."

"How do you even know that?"

"I watch a lot of TV." He looked down at her sandwich. "So, are we going to sit here all day or what?"

She picked up her sandwich, and took a pointed bite. "I'm not anorexic," Swan told him, again. "I'm _not_. I'm really just not hungry."

"Hungry or not, a body needs food and sleep; you're getting neither." Admittedly, he didn't know a lot about anorexia. But he did know Swan needed to eat. "No one's asking you to fucking gorge yourself, okay? But if you could like, suffer your way through a sandwich on occasion, that'd be great."

"Bella?" Paul jerked in his seat as Cheif Swan stepped up to there table. "Oh good, you're eating. I worry about you kid. I know I haven't been home for dinner much." Paul could practically smell the relief on Cheif Swan as he watched his daughter swallow her bite. "Uh, sorry. I don't think we've met. I'm Bella's father, Cheif Swan."

Oh they'd met alright. But that had been before Paul's change. "Jared Cameron," Paul lied, reaching out to shake the Cheifs hand. "It's good to meet you sir. Although, I have to admit. I've heard stories. Billy's got a mouth on him, as you probably know."

Cheif laughed, shamelessly. "Old man should know I've got twice as much dirt on him. Well... well I guess I'll leave you kids to it. It's good to see you out of the house, kiddo."

Swan flushed under her fathers attention, but smiled anyway. It was...a little less mechanical than before. Her fathers praise probably mattered to her, or at least, his worry did. She took another bite of her sandwich, before speaking. "I'll be home tonight. I have your stuff packed, but I didn't get a chance to put your spare stuff in the dryer-"

"Oh don't worry about it," Cheif cut her off. "I'm headed home anyway. You enjoy your evening. You headed down to La Push?"

"Yes," Paul answered, before Swan could say otherwise. She shot him a glare, and he could hear her teeth grinding together. "We'll be over at Sam's house, if you need us."

"Sam Uley?" Cheif asked with an air of approval. "He's a good kid. Real good kid. Well alright then. I'll see you in the morning, Bells."

"Why did you tell him your name was Jared," Swan asked, when her father was gone.

Paul watched as she systematically separated the carrots out of her soup. "Because your dad is actually pretty familiar with Paul Lahote. Guess he didn't recognize me. Before you ask, it wasn't anything serious. Just punk-kid bullshit. Missing school, getting in fights." He flashed her as mile with too much teeth. "But I'm a big boy now, with the Sam Uley seal of approval."

"You're a jerk," Swan muttered, but she spoke around a mouthful of sandwich, so Paul considered it a win.

**A/N** Posts every Wednesday, for those of you who haven't noticed. He didn't imprint this time! That's a clue for those of you who haven't worked out the pattern.


	10. Seriously, surprise

**Sur-prise [ser-prahyz, suh-] _verb_**

to strike or occur with a sudden feeling of wonder

to come upon or discover suddenly and unexpectedly

to make an unexpected assault

to elicit or bring out suddenly and without warning

**.**

to lead or bring unawares, as into doing something not intended.

**A/N **Sorry about missing last weeks update. Had some perosnal stuff. Also to those of you who have been reviewing or PM'ing me whiney crap about how you're sick of Paul imprinting over and over again, maybe...I don't know, try reading the summary next time.

Unbeta'd. Happy Reading!

**Thursday, March 22 (still)**

Paul came home to find Jared sitting at his kitchen table, shamelessly eating a sandwich and flipping through an out-dated car magazine.

He slid a large zip-lock bag across the table. "The dirty deed is done, my friend. I want you to know that our friendship will never fail to worry and concern me."

"Pff. What's a little B&E between bros?" There was more in the bag than Paul expected. He tugged the seal open and winced at the faint smell of leech as it escaped. Dumping the contents out on table, he shuffled through them; plane tickets, a burned CD, more pictures.

"The tickets are expired already," Jared noted. "Is she going to freak out when she finds out I was in her room?"

Paul shrugged, eying the last photo. It was of Swan and Cullen again, in the Chief's kitchen. Cullen's eyes were only for Swan, mouth curved into a soft-looking smile. Paul didn't like it; it looked too _real_, half-secret and half smitten. Like Cullen actually cared. He folded it the picture in half, hiding both their faces and looked up at Jared. "I'll tell her I made Jake do it." The idea that he could make Jacob do anything the _bitchface_ was laughable, but that was hardly the point.

"Aren't you suppose to be fostering peace between the two of them, or something?" Jared snorted.

And so he was, but really, it was all part of the bigger picture. "She likes Jake, even if she doesn't want to see him right now. She'll like that he wants to help too. She'll get over it, if she even bothers to get past blaming me they're gone." As far as Paul knew, an addict wasn't known for their priorities. Swan would most likely focus on the fact that they were gone, rather than who took them. "

"Does he?"

"Does who what? Oh." Looking up, Paul wasn't actually sure how to answer that. For all that Jake had huffed and puffed about Paul helping Swan, he hadn't actually offered his own services. He probably hadn't even thought to, still tripping off the post-imprint bond high. "Probably. He worries about her."

"He worries about you," Jared corrected, smirk firmly back in place. "And what you might do to her."

"On average, the most prevalent thing I want to do to Swan is shake some fucking sense into her." He sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face before shoving Swan's shit back into the bag. The smell of leech still hung in the air, barely there but still there. He'd have to leave a note for Embry. "I actually think it would be good for her to see Jake."

Jared nodded, leaning back in his chair. "Have fun prying him off Leah's face. The only time anyone sees them unattached is when Sam's got them on patrol."

True. "Leah probably won't be comfortable with Jake seeing Swan alone yet, either." Paul didn't blame Leah; the jealousy was inherent, very nearly an instinct. "But he helped her before, maybe not as much as he could, but he did. No sense in ditching a sure thing." Paul was man enough to admit that Jacob _had_ benifited Swan, a little. She'd at least _wanted_ to get better, for him. Jacob had just unconsciously manipulated her (he seriously doubted Jake had the skills to intentionally manipulate a _banana_, let alone a person).

"I'm surprised Leah hasn't pissed on Jake's leg yet." Jared took another bite of his sandwich, clearly thinking on it. "Maybe start with phone calls, or something? Swan's probably not ready to see them together, and they're not ready to be apart."

"Could work. I'd suggest texting but Swan doesn't have a fucking cell phone. Who doesn't have a cell phone? Old Mr. Altera has a cell phone. Anyway, Jake helped with...whatever

shit she's got going on from those leeches, a high, an addiction. Maybe it's his sunny personality, or his fucking musk, I don't know. She just said he helped." That had been part of their discussion today, how she'd come to follow Jake around. A _sun_, she'd called him. Said he felt warm, and bright when everything was cold and dark.

"What did you call him before? Her methadone? Maybe he's just his own kind of drug." Jared frowned, brow pulled together in thought. "What if...well, the leech-smell thing, that gets humans high, right? That's Bella's problem?"

Well, it was one of them, anyway. "Mostly. She said she could smell Cullen on those pictures." He flicked the sealed bag on the table. "That scent is faint to _me, _but she swore she could smell it. It could be long term exposure, or just a sensitivity." "

"Maybe it _was _Jakes scent that leveled her out. Hear me out; we protect against vampires, we're _made _to protect against vampires. What if our scent actually counteracts theirs? We're their antitheist in every other way, it wouldn't be that big of a stretch."

It wasn't an entirely non-plausible theory. When you were speaking of vampires and werewolves, nothing was non-plausible. "How would I even test that?"

This was why he came to Jared. Jared was good for brain storming."We'd have to get her around the pack. What's she like around you?"

"It's kind of hit or miss, really. She's got good days, bad days, and days like today." Something tickled at the back of his head, like a memory he couldn't quite reach. "She... Some days, she seems okay. Like herself, not that I'd know. She just seems..." Alive, Paul thought, but didn't say it. "Like the day she got wasted on Sue's porch, and the other day her truck broke down, before we went after the leech. And then other days she's...just...somewhere else entirely. Tied up in a memory of them, or some shit. She was totally gone today. There's really no rhyme or rhythm to it, nothing to back up the scent thing."

Jared made a face, thoughtful and distant."I don't think you should just write it off. The whole pack came to Harry's funeral, we were all around her. Not to mention it's Leah's house, so pack scent would have been unavoidable. And the day your truck broke down, you carried her back. I don't know. Jake was pretty tactile with Bella. So, maybe it _is_ the scent thing, but maybe it's a touch thing too."

Paul gave him a long, blank look."So what? You think I should _touch_Swan?"

Jared was still leaning back in the chair. It was the one Jake broke during his little post-imprint tantrum, shoddily repaired and mostly unused since. Not that he told Jared that, because the bastard was still laughing at him. "You don't have to sound so fucking scandalized dude. She's not that bad. She use to be really pretty actually."

"That is like...so far from the point you're going to need GPS to get back to it." Paul kicked out, hitting the lifted front corner leg of Jared's chair. "I'm not fucking Swan!"

Jared flailed a little as he fell back -werewolf grace be damned- and the chair splintered beneath him. "_Dick_. Also, that is not at all what I was suggesting, you _whore_." He rolled his eyes as he pushed himself up off the floor. "Contrary to what you apparently think there are perfectly non-sexual ways to touch women."

Paul couldn't help the face he made. "I'm not...doing that with Swan either."

"You don't even know what I was going to suggest." Oh yes he did, because Paul knew Jared, and Jared was a little _bitch_. "Oh come on, cud-"

"Do not even say it, I am serious. I will punch you in the neck."

Jared went on as if he hadn't been interrupted. "-dling never hurt any one. Really? Really Paul? I know for a fact you slept in your mom's bed until you were _nine_. You love cuddling."

Paul clenched his teeth. "You said you'd never speak of...that."

Jared laughed. Really, why was he even Paul's friend? He was an ass hole. "What? That you're a total momma's boy, or that you were afraid of the dark well into your teens."

Oh God, Paul was going to have to hurt him. "_Shut up_! Jared, I swear to fuck, if you don't shut up-"

"Dude, chill." Jared gathered up the broken chair pieces, and carried them to the back door. "It's not like the Pack doesn't know. Anyway, I'm not saying you should snuggle Swan, or some shit. But, you know, throw an arm over her shoulder, or sit next to her on the couch or something. It doesn't have to be a thing."

"She might get the wrong idea." The last thing Paul needed was for Swan to get the wrong idea. He didn't need the girl clinging on him the way she had Jacob. The whole point was to get her standing on her own two feet.

"It's innocent," Jared insisted. "Make it brotherly, or something. Seriously, you can't tell me you've never hugged a girl in an entierly platonic way."

And honestly, Paul had to think on it. "Uh...your mother?" That was it. Maybe Sue, but he couldn't actively remember hugging Sue. Jacob's mother use to ruffle his hair a lot, when he played with Rebecca and Rachel, but other than that, Paul's female contact was limited to his and Jared's mothers.

Jared's responding look was almost pitying, and really, Paul was going to have to punch him. "Okay, that's just sad? I'm going to make Kim hug you all the time now, I think."

"Keep you're girlfriend off of me." Kim was nice and all, but Paul would rather her not be all up on him, especially as he could usually smell Jared still _in_ her. Ugh.

"Fine." And then Jared's pitying look shifted to something worse; a smirk. "I have an idea. And you owe me, so shut up you can't say no."

And that would be how Paul found himself on an honest-to-God, double date.

**Saturday, March 24rd**

Maybe double-date was a bit extreme, but that was certainly what it felt like. Jared and Kim had invited themselves to Paul's house, insisting he bring Swan as well. Paul had conceded because one, Swan could benefit from a little human action, and two, he did owe Jared. And hey, he'd had expected Jared to blow his favor on using Paul's house to hook up with Kim, and pretty much anything was better than that.

Swan had initially tried to blow him off, but Paul wasn't having it. He'd drove down to Forks himself to pick her up when she refused.

"Jared!" Chief Swan greeted him at the door with a confused smile. Paul was pretty sure the whole Jared thing was going to bite him in the ass, eventually. "Can I help you?"

"I'm here to pick Swa—er, Bella up. We're going to watch some movies with my buddy and his girlfriend. If that's alright with you," he added, with his most charming smile.

The Chief's face shifted between surprised, and suspicious, before setteling on grateful. "Good. Good, that's er...that's good. She hasn't gotten out much since Jake and Leah started dating."

Paul hadn't given it much thought, how Jake and Leah's imprint would effect the Chief. It was no secret that Charlie and Billy had always thought their kids would end up together, and maybe they would have, if not for those fucking leeches. It probably made no sense to Charlie when Jake just up and jumped ship for Leah, when he seemed so stupidly in love with Swan.

Naturally, Paul decided to play that route. "Jake's an idiot, and Bella looks like she could use a friend."

"Yeah. Well, I was just leaving for work, but you're more than welcome to go get her. I don't think she's uh...ready. She didn't mention she was going anywhere." He looked back at the stair case with a pained expression. "I think she might be sleeping."

Doubtful. She was probably moping. "It's sort of a surprise."

"Surprise," Paul said flatly, pushing Swan's door open. She was face down on the bed, in her pajamas. Her hair was a greasy, straggly mess and she smelled liked day old sweat and teen-age angst (both of which Paul was grossly familiar with). "Swan."

She didn't reply, didn't even lift her head from the pillow. If it weren't for the steady beat of her heart, and the huff-puff of her breath, he'd have took her for dead.

"Come on Swan," Paul wheedled, crouching next to the bed. "Swan?" Worry crept in, making his heart beat just a little too fast. Curling a hand over her boney shoulder, he shook her gently. She was trembling like a leaf, little twitches racking her skinny frame. "Swan. Bella."

"Jake?" Muffled though they were, in the damp sweaty pillow, the words still rang clear as day. Jake. Always with the Jake.

"I wasn't aware we resembled each other all that much," Paul said flatly, sitting back on his haunches.

Swan lifted her head up from the pillow, bleary eyed and red-cheeked. "You...don't. Just. Warm." She blinked, and sighed. "M'sleeping."

"No you're not." He took in her glassy eyes and fevered skin and sighed. She was coming down from the leech-high."You puke yet?"

"Yesterday," she admitted, and he had to respect her a little for not bothering to lie.

"You were pretty messed up." She still was. He could almost smell it on her, the faint scent of wrongness. Whatever had fucked her shit up yesterday, was still working it's way out of her system.

"My stomach still hurts." Her breath came too fast, as her heart picked up speed.

He counted the beats, his worry doubling. "You probably need to eat something."

As if on cue, she leaned over the bed and threw up almost nothing, just a thin yellow slime- probably stomach bile. She didn't say anything, just continued to shake and pant. Paul was instantly taken back to his nine year old self, remembering the way his father had passed out in his own foamy white vomit on the front porch, after his mother had locked him out of the house and called 911.

But this wasn't the same. Swan wasn't tweaking out. It was _withdrawls_. The hard kind that came with relapsing.

"It's alright," he said uselessly, kneeling at the end of her bed. He pulled her hair out of her face. When she appeared finished, he handed her the water bottle from her bedside table, and watched her hands shake as she twisted the top off. "Better?"

"No."

Jared's words lingered with him. What if it was a scent thing? Jared had a point, Paul supposed. Jacob was always pulling Swan into a hug, or throwing his arm around her shoulder, especially when she curled up in on herself. Still, There was no way to know without further testing. He tugged her covers down, and kicked off his shoes. "Budge over."

"I...I don't know if this is-"

"Relax birdie We've ended up in bed together before, and we both made it out alive. I'm not trying to get in your pants." Her shoulders were pulled taught as he stretched out on his half of the narrow bed. "One, you kind of smell. Two, I'd break you. In half. With my dick. Three, like seriously, you need a shower. "

He was going for a little levity, and hit the target spot on. Swan laughed, and flushed and buried her face in the pillow. "You're _horrible_."

Cautiously, he threw an arm over her waist.. "Oh, the worst."

She relaxed in steps, shoulder easing down, fingers unclenching from their curl in the blanket, legs stretching down across the mattress. Paul himself was stretched out carelessly, legs bent at the knee so his calves were hanging off the edge of the mattress. He had an arm tucked up under his head, and the other still curled over her waist.

He waited until she'd gone fully slack, breath evening out to a slow rush of in and out. With his best friend's encouragement in mind (innocently friendly touches), Paul...did as Jared suggested. Flattening a palm against her stomach, he pulled her back towards his chest.

"Wha-"

"It's alright," he hushed her. "I come in peace. I'm not trying to get frisky or anything. It's a...a...horizontal hug."

"That sounds like a sex thing," Swan muttered, body already beginning to tense back up.

Paul swore under his breath, and hauled her back until they were flush against each other. "It's not a sex thing, okay? It's a hug."

She was silent for a long moment. "Is this...are we cuddling?"

"Oh my God." Paul closed his eyes. "Shut up okay?" Jesus Christ, now he was tense. "Look, do you want this hug or not?" He pulled away, unsure if these innocent advances were even welcomed. This was stupid. Jared was stupid.

"No! No, I do." She latched onto his arm with both of her hands, and held it against her chest. "Sorry, sorry. I just...it's a little weird. We don't...know each other well, yet. And I just...I guess it's been a while."

"You didn't do this with Jacob." It wasn't a question. Paul already knew. The second Jacob got too friendly, Swan bolted like her ass was on fire, flashing him a quick, nervous smile and making an excuse to get the hell out of dodge. In retrospect, Paul wasn't sure how he expected anything different.

"No, no. I didn't...this is going to sound stupid because you already know but...well, I didn't want to lead him on. I wasn't ready to make that decision or make that choice or whatever. And he was already so... I just didn't want to lead him on. I didn't do a very good job."

"The whole pack knew your intentions toward Jacob Black were nothing but friendly," Paul assured her at once. "Don't think that Jacob didn't know too. He just wanted more. He thought he had a chance. He pushed you, when you weren't ready, and that wasn't fair."

"It wasn't like that," she insisted. Paul thought maybe it was easier for her to talk because she didn't have to look him in the eye. "Jacob was great. I was...I don't know. I let him hope. That's my fault."

"We can agree to disagree, then. It's a moot point anyway." He wiggled down into the pillow, pushing some of her hair out of his face. "You want to sleep a bit more?"

She shook her head no, but snuggled back into him anyway. Five minutes later, she was asleep.

Five minutes after that, so was he.

He woke to her _screaming_.

It was blood curdling and set every one of his instincts on fire. Up instantly, he snarled, feeling his skin shimmer with the promise of a phase. He shook it off, and turned to her, where she was thrashing on the bed so wildly, he was sure she'd hurt herself.

"Swan!" He snapped, shaking her by the shoulder. "Swan! Bella. Bella wake up."

Her eyes popped open, and she hissed through her teeth. "You took them away," she accused him, slamming her fists against his chest. "You took them. _You took them_."

Paul tore the covers away, and scooped her up off the bed. He realized he'd been _innocently_ touching Swan for a while now, for as often as he ended up carrying her (across beaches, up trees, through he woods). The bathroom door was open, and he wasted no time, settling her in the shower. She clung to him, even as he peeled off her pants with shaky, clinical hands.

He couldn't tell you why he was shaking, except that...well, it was hard to watch. He wasn't a bastard, he wasn't _heartless_. Swan was trembling, and puking, hand pressed hard to the wall as she struggled to hold herself up. It was just...hard not to _feel_.

She lifted her hands as he pulled off her shirt, not a single protest escaping her lips. She was naked underneath, not a stitch of underthings in sight. Her whole body was pale and peppered in purple-green marks (malnourishment, anemia; she probably bruised like a peach). Her ribs pressed sharply through her skin, and twin hip bones jutted-he forced his eyes upward, away from where her thighs met, and dark hair began to curl. The innocent, clinical touch was quickly turning to an extremely inappropriate eye fuck. Paul was a lot of things, but he wasn't the kind of guy to take advantage.

He cranked the cold water, angling the spray so that it wouldn't soak the floor. Swan gasped when it hit her. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, and maybe Paul was wrong. Maybe he was a bad guy because..._christ_.

The scent of salt hit him, and he realized she was crying, face pressed against his chest. If anything, it kept her other girl-parts hidden from sight. Not that he hadn't seen it all before, when she'd sprinted topless through his house. But the whole puking thing had sort of negated the naked thing, at the time.

Just like the crying and puking thing should have negated the naked thing now, but it wasn't. Not entirely. Maybe a little, but not as much as it should, and didn't that just make him feel like a bastard. No one else (he'd seen plenty of crying girls) got him the way she did. . The wolf smelled prey, and that was wrong, but if Paul was a stubborn bastard, his wolf was twice so. He had to man up and admit that Swan was attractive. It didn't help that his wolf was growling beneath the surface, the scent of tears hitting him right in the gut. Again, Paul was a bad, bad person, because even without the shot of adrenalin, he _still_ thought Swan was pretty when she cried.

"Why did you take them?" She choked, looking at him from between her fingers.

He shoved his moral dilemma to the back burner and focused on not being a total creeper. Swan was fucked up, she needed help, and Paul had volunteered. So that's what he'd do, because that's what he did. He fixed shit. "'Cause of this," he said, letting her cling. "They got you all fucked up, birdie."

"They do," she admitted, red mouth quivering. "God, they really do. I can't...I can't... What do I do?" Taking a deep, shuddering breath right against his chest (was she breathing him in? Was Jared right?), she looked up at him with those broken brown eyes of hers. They looked more clear now; gone was the vacant, drugged out gaze. This was Swan with the fire he remembered. And that fire hit him all at once, like a super-nova explosion

Paul imprinted on Bella Swan.

And it wasn't the first time.

_It wasn't the first time._ Sue's porch, the side of the road, _now, now, now_.

His wolf snarled, sending a million little shivers across his skin. _Finally_.

"You take a shower," he heard himself say, peeling Bella of him. He looked up at the ceiling, and tugged the shower curtain closed. "I'll go grab you some clothes. We're going to Jared's."

Jared. Jared would know what to do. He needed to talk to Jared, but his damn phone was in the car.

She said something, but Paul didn't hear it. His ears were full of white noise and growling. Still, he did hear her adjust the water temperature, and grab up the shampoo, as he slipped out of the bathroom.

In her closet hanged clothes he'd never seen her wear, but the purple-blue dress was impossibly recognizable. He tore it off the hanger with a snarl, and threw it out her bedroom window, where it fluttered down to the dirty snow, carried by a gust of wind.

It was an entirely irrational reaction that he'd totally dissect later because now was just not the time.

Jeans. Jeans and a shirt. And under stuff. He could do that. Paul knew his way around women's clothing. He tackled the jeans and shirt first, riffling through the top drawer (always the top drawer) for socks, underwear and a bra. Bella -Swan's- bras were a hell of a lot more lacy then he would have expected, looking like they'd been plucked out of a Victoria secret's catalog. The underwear, however, were as he remembered, all solid-colored cotton boy-shorts. He grabbed a gray pair because they were familiar and familiar was _safe_.

The water cut just as he stepped into the bathroom, and laid the bundle of clothing on the counter. "I'll...I'll wait in your room, I guess."

He watched her hand reach out from the curtain, tugging the towel of the rack on the wall. "Alright," she murmured, and cleared her throat. "Um. Thank you. I feel better."

"Right." Paul cleared his throat too. "Showers. Showers will do that." And then he promptly turned tail and ran.

He made a half ass attempt at cleaning the stomach bile with a towel from the hamper, but his mind was elsewhere entirely.

It wasn't that he was afraid. He couldn't remember being afraid any of the other times he imprinted. And God, how weird was _that_? What the hell was going on? It had to be Bella, and her...her messed up head. Not that it was Bella's fault her head was all messed up, he found himself thinking. Because of course, he couldn't blame his imprint. Except for how he could, because God, she knew they were vampires and apparently didn't give a flying fuck. But then, that was the leeches fault, with their stinky mojo or whatever, so really, it wasn't Swans fault, except for how it totally was, and oh god, Paul was turning bi-polar.

It was like a chick flick in his head. His head was Fifty First Dates. Or Ground-hogs day. Yeah, that seemed slightly less _rom-com_. Either way the situation was messed up and probably unsafe.

Because...because if Paul forgot his imprint on Bella again...who would keep her safe? That was _his_ job. Who would pull her ass out of bed and throw her in the shower? Who would smack her out of a panic attack if necessary, or guilt her into eating? Those were _his_ jobs.

"Paul?" Swan...Bella...Swan. Swan was easier, even in his mind. Swan stood in the door way, damp hair curling up at the ends like it had that day he'd trapped her in Sam's bathroom. That was after the slap, after the first time. Why had he forgotten? He remembered imprinting, and then...and then nothing.

What _happened_?

"What?" He blinked at her, feeling the imprint right down to his bones. God, was this what it was like for Jared and Sam? How could they handle it? It was too damn much.

Bella gave him a wide eyed look as she dumped her sweaty pajamas into the hamper by the door. "Are you okay? You're...um. You're kind of freaking me out. And you're sniffing my pillow."

Paul looked down at the pillow he was fucking hugging, and promptly threw it on the floor. Jared did that shit with Kim's sweaters, and it was _weird_. "Sorry. That's weird. Uh..." He shook his head, tried to clear his thoughts, all to no avail. "You ready?"

She gave him a pained look that screamed no, no she was not ready. No, she would never be ready. Paul ignored it. She needed to get out of the house, and more importantly, Paul needed answers.

Like, what the ever loving fuck was going on?

She paused at the foot of the stairs, and hovered. "Should I...should I bring something? I made a cheesecake yesterday, for my dad. He took some to work, but-"

"You made cheesecake?" And here Paul thought all she did was lay around and mope.

She flushed. "Dad...was getting worried. I don't like to worry him. Plus, baking is kind of...I don't know, cathartic."

"Like cleaning." She gave him a fierce look, mouth turning up into a defiant frown and hell, it was pretty much the most expression he'd seen on her face besides tears. "No, no, I'm not judging. It's...it's good that you don't want your dad to worry. That you can push past all this shit for him. It means you care, and that's...well, it's when you stop carrying, that you need to worry. You're doing good."

She pulled the aluminum pie tin from the refrigorator, and shoved her feet in her shoes. "I don't feel like I'm doing good," she said, after an awkwardly long stretch of silence. He took her keys out of her hand and locked the door behind them when her hands started shaking.

"You are though," he insisted, feeling like maybe she just needed the fucking encouragement. Everyone did sometimes.

Slipping into Paul's crappy car, she flashed him a nervous smile, face inexplicably pink. "I'm...I'm really embarrassed about the picture thing. About how I reacted. About how I reacted when you took them. It's...I don't want you to think I'm not trying-"

"Hey," he snapped, before she could work herself up. He could hear it in her heart, could smell the panic on her skin. "Those things happen. They do. It's unfortunate, and it sucks, but it happens. You're not the first addict to relapse, and you won't be the last." He caught the way she flinched at the A-word, and sighed. "You won't ever get better if you can't admit it."

Silently, she stared out the window, mouth pulled tight. Paul thought he might have offended her (it wouldn't have been the first time), but eventually she spoke, the breath in her words fogging the glass in little puffs.

"I know that my reactions to...to the Cullen's isn't healthy. Just...even thinking about them does weird things to my head. But everything reminds me of them. It's like...no matter what I do, there they are, tainting that too. I can't look at the sky without remembering our meadow, I can't pull on a pair of ratty sleep shorts without thinking of Alice's disapproving frown, I can't eat without remembering the way they always watched me with this weird fascination. I can't...I can't do anything without them being right _there_."

It was by far the most he'd heard her speak of them, including Jacob's memories. "Maybe you need something just for you."

"Jacob was that." She blinked, and flushed. "I mean, I mean...he didn't remind me of them. He wasn't for me, obviously, just-"

"We've talked about this," Paul cut her off, as they sped down the 101 toward La Push. "You don't need to defend your relationship with Jacob -no matter how unhealthy- to me." He paused, fiddling for his phone in the center console. "He misses you, you know? Any time you're ready-"

"I'm not. Ready, I mean. Not yet." She sighed, shoulders falling. "I do miss him though. I just..." Swan doesn't seem to have the words, but Paul thought he understood.

"You could call him, you know? I think he'd like that. Of course all I have to go by is how uncontrollably bitchy he's been lately. Actually, I think he's a little jealous I've been spending so much time with you."

Swan tore her eyes from the window at that, to give him a flat look. "Because I'm such fabulous company to keep, what with the crying and the puking."

"You make up for it with all the T and A you've been flashing." It's not the smartest joke to make, but Swan was funny, in a dry sort of way. The kind of way Paul appreciated.

Except, his rejoinder went over her head. God, she _was_ a prude. "Tee and Aye?"

Paul could let it go. He could totally let it go. Except, well. He kind of didn't want to. It wasn't like him to edit himself on the behalf of others, and he wouldn't make an exception for his imprint. Wasn't his style. If he did, he'd end up looking like a mushy loser like Jared. "Tits and ass, birdie."

Her mouth fell open, but she barked out a surprising laugh. "Congratulations I guess. You're the only guy to ever see me naked."

The curl of pleasure shooting through him was all wolf. It was pleased that she was untouched, unseen. Paul on the other hand was extremely leery of virgins. They tended to be overly clingy.

He snorted. In the long list of current problems, that wasn't going to be one of them.

"I should text Jared," he muttered, grabbing his cell phone again. Paul hated texting. His fingers were to big for the stupid little keys. But, he had to give Jay some kind of warning. With his eyes half on the road, and half on the phone, he shot out a quick message of '_imprinted on swan'. _At least Jared would know what was up, at any rate. They could talk after he took her home.

Tbc

**A/N** Wooh! He remembers. And he remembers the other time. This doesn't follow the pattern. No one was getting the pattern, so I assumed it was to vague and kind of abandoned it. I like this better anyway. Hope you do too. Until next time, folks.

Also, to those of you still a little confused on the time line, the first imprint happened on March 11th, and it's only now March 24th. So you have to consider what progress they've made with that in consideration. It hasn't even been two weeks.


	11. Memories Not Mine

**Remember** [ri-mehm-bur] verb (used with an object)

to recall to the mind by an act of effort of memory

to retain in the memory; to keep in the mind

**A/N **This isn't beta'd, but will be very soon. Also, for those of you who are interested in the pattern, there will be a very brief (two lines) over cap on my profile, at the very top. Enjoy! PM's are always welcome.

Also, I realize I posted this pretty late, but hey, it was technically still Wednesday where I am. It counts.

**Saturday, March 24 (still)**

Paul caught Embry just as he was leaving for patrols. "Hey, can you tell Sam I need to talk to him later?" He asked, as he and Swan kicked off their shoes by the front door. "Tell him it's important."

Embry gave him a sleepy-eyed look, but nodded. "Can do. It was nice seeing you Bella," he added, flashing her a smile as he sprinted out the door.

"Come on, let's grab some forks." Paul lead Swan toward the kitchen, and rustled through the cutlery drawer. " Drinks too. Jared and Kim are..." He stopped to listen, and made a face of disgusts. "Dry humping in the living room. Nice. Knock it off you two!"

"You're late!" Jared replied, and Paul could hear Kim giggle. "We were entertaining ourselves. If we'd have known you were going to take forever, we would have stayed at mine."

"You could have texted me!"Paul rolled his eyes, and nudged Swan towards the living room. "Ignore them, they're gross."

"I forgot my phone on my dresser." Which meant he didn't get Paul's text, of course. Not that it mattered, it was more of a heads up anyway. He'd give Jared a proper run down later, after he saw Swan safely home, and talked to Sam.

"Don't we need plates?" Swan asked. "And like, more forks?"

"No because if we _used_ plates, then I'd have to _wash_ plates. Not every one finds cleaning cathartic, birdie. Also, we're not sharing with them. They're gross, we don't know where their mouths have been."

Swan snorted, a nervous smile fluttering across her pale face. "Or rather, we _do_ and that makes it significantly worse."

"Point," Paul conceded, smirking when the little prude flushed. "Alright, come on. You two better not be on my couch or asses are getting kicked. You contain that shit to Embry's chair."

As it turned out, they were on the chair. Both of them, squeezed in tight. Neither made an effort to move from their compromising position as Paul and Swan settled down onto the couch. Paul ignored the cushion's worth of space between them. Swan already looked awkward enough as it was; there would be time to sprawl. He was already pretty sure Jared was right when it came to his scent theory, there was little reason to test it _more_, unless necessary.

Unless, Paul mused, it was his scent that made her better. Which would make just as much sense, considering the imprint. Although, Jacob had effected her, but who's to say that wasn't just a Jake thing? Paul was man enough to admit that, before the wolf thing, Jacob was one happy fucker. That shit was totally contagious. You couldn't be around the goofy little kid without grinning.

Once upon a time, Paul had been a little bit of a big-brother to Jake, back when he'd spent time with Rachel and Rebecca. Jake had been a chubby little kid and the twins, in true sister style, had never paused to give him shit for it. Add to the that the mild speech impediment, Jake was just...just prime for picking on. But Paul had his back, Paul always had his back, cause' that was what Paul did. He took care of shit.

And then Paul's shift came, and he turned -momentarily that is- into an uber _dick_. Then it was _him_ picking on Jake, and Paul knew that was shit, he did. He wasn't sorry though, or maybe just not particularly regretful. The shift did that, it _changed_ you, and it took all Paul's faults and made them worse.

He'd been a broody, hateful, vindictive shit-head and he knew it. He'd been careless at the mouth with everyone; Jared, his mother, Jake, even Billy, who was pretty much everyone's '_uncle_' around these parts. It was like what little shame he had was torn away, leaving a man-whoring, ass hat in his place. Paul hadn't been himself. Just like Jared had turned into a secretive little _weasel_, quick to lie, quick to slip in a back handed compliment that left your head reeling for days. Even Sam had his dark days, but they were candy-coated with an imprint.

By the time Paul was back to himself, albeit with a slight hair-trigger on his anger, the damage was done. Hell, Paul was still repairing his relationship with his mother, though Sam's bright place in the Rez helped. Sam made for the best cover story; no one questioned him.

Jacob hadn't been much better though, so Paul thought the grudge-holding was a little bit of a double-standard. After all, he'd been awfully quick to persecute Swan for her affiliations. Hell, he hadn't even really leveled out yet, hadn't found his peace in the pack. He railed against all Sam's guidance, out of sheer petulance. If there was any fault the shift made worse in Jacob Black, it was the fucking _petulance_.

Jared kicked his foot. "Dude, quit spacing out. What's wrong with you?"

Jared, Kim and Swan were all staring at him. Whatever movie was playing on the screen, the opening credits were rolling to an end. "Shit, sorry. I must be more tired then I thought." He hadn't slept much last night, between grabbing dinner with his mother and a double border run.

"You can lay down," Swan sad, setting the cheesecake on the arm of the couch. "Out here, I mean." She gave him a look he couldn't decipher as anything but _'leave me out here alone and die'. _

"Don't let him put his feet in your lap," Jared warned, smirking. But behind the smile, there was genuine curiosity in his eyes. He wanted to know if his theory was correct, if we as wolves effected Swan the same as leeches. "Unless you want to die from the fumes."

"Fuck you, my feet smell like rainbows."Paul threw a pillow at him, and to his surprise, Kim caught it before Jared could. She handed it off Swan, who laid it in her lap with a nervous pat. "Whatever." He shoved his hand into his pocket, digging out his phone and keys before dumping them on the floor. He sprawled out on the couch, settling his head down on the pillow in Swan's lap. "Cheesecake," he grunted, patting his chest. Obligingly, Swan set it there, handing him a fork.

Paul kept himself loose and languid, but it took a while for Swan to ease out of her stiff position. Her ankles were crossed, toes curled tight, and she had her arms folded awkwardly over her chest, careful not to touch. But still, inch by inch, she relaxed, melting down into the couch.

The movie was boring. It had Jared written all over it too; some dorky sci-fi drama about aliens or squids or whatever the fuck that slimy dude was. His mouth sort of looked like a vagina.

"You're not allowed to pick the movie anymore," Kim said out of the blue, and Paul looked up to see her making a face, probably not unlike the one he was making himself. "Seriously. I told you to get Hangover. Everyone loves Hangover."

_Seriously_, Paul thought, settling back down in onto the pillow. Kim was...not as horribly awful as she seemed in Jared's head. Paul realized he hadn't ever bothered to hang out with her on her own or with Jared. Jared's memories were nothing but obsessive fawning and lust, so why on earth would he? It wasn't like he had any desire to wax poetic about her wavy hair or dimples. Or cock sucking, which was a favorite of Jared's. But apparently, there was a lot more to Kim than that. He was man enough to own his misconceptions.

On the thought of misconceptions, he looked to Swan, who was toying with her still-empty fork. Stabbing his own fork into the cheesecake, he held the bite up to her. "Open up."

She blinked, first at the fork and then at him. "Um. I'm fine."

"Don't make me do the _here-comes-the-choo-choo_ because I totally will." He lifted a brow, daring. "Or would you prefer the airplane? I'm open to suggestions. Open up."

Her mouth fell open and she took the bite in the most resentful manner possible, chewing and swallowing as slowly as possible. "You're an ass."

"Oh birdie, you know I love it when you talk dirty," he deadpanned, scooping up another bite. "If you knew how to feed yourself, I wouldn't have too."

Just as he expected her, she scooped up her own bite. Unexpectedly, though maybe it shouldn't have been, she stabbed the cheesecake so hard her fork sank through the cheap aluminum and into his sternum, not hard enough to break skin but hard enough to push a gasp from his chest. She ate her bite with her own petty little smile, and Paul grinned.

Jared snorted. Tipping his head back, Paul saw that they were being _watched_. Kim's expression was open and fond, but Jared...Jared looked calculating. Paul froze for a moment, rewinding everything that had just happened. Hand-feeding, banter, friendly-violence. Oh God. They were being _gross_. Jared and Kim style gross without the making out. And Paul hadn't even realized it.

So that was embarrassing_._

He had no idea when he fell asleep. Sometime after Swan stabbed him for the last bite of cheesecake, he thought fondly. He woke to an entirely different movie, and Swan's fingers scratching through his short hair, nails raking lightly across his scalp. It felt awesome; tingly and kind of warm. Absently, he realized he was being _petted_, but it didn't seem to matter in the moment.

He rolled onto his stomach, earning a surprised squeak from Swan. Nuzzling down, he slipped a hand behind her hips, and the other under her thighs, like he did with his pillows in his sleep. It was an absent-minded jester, or at least it was until Swan squirmed.

"Stop it," he grumbled, pinching her side. "Sleepin'."

"Well just...wait. Lift up." He did so, pushing up onto his elbows. She lifted her knees, knocking him in the face through the pillow as she curled her legs up under herself, feet tucked up under his chest. "Now push your arm down so it's not digging into my back."

He ended up with his arm shoved between the cushions behind her and the other thrown around her knees. She propped her chin in her hand, elbow resting on the arm chair. And that was that; Paul fell back asleep with the weight of Jared's gaze burning a hole into the top of his head where, incidentally, Swan was still petting.

Whatever. He was imprinted now, he was allowed to be a little gross. Jared could fuck off.

The next time he woke, it was with Jared hovering over him, Paul's camera in hand. He snapped a picture, and grinned. "Kim and I are headed home. Tomorrow we can talk more about how much you don't want to fuck Swan."

Paul's head jerked as he twisted to look at Swan, who was _out_. "Shut the hell up," he hissed at Jared, who just cackled as he headed for the door, muttering about how Paul hadn't denied it. Of course he hadn't denied it. Even if Paul had no desire to get in Swan's pants now, not when she smelled sour, like _hurt_ and _sick_ and _death. _But one day. Well. _One day. _

He lifted his head again, staring openly at Swan's lax face. She had her head pillowed in her arms, against the couch, one leg stretched out beneath Paul, and the other still curled. The pillow had fallen, leaving Paul's head directly in her lap.

He scooted forward, burying his face in her stomach. It was instinct, a crazy burning desire to be as close as fucking possible. It didn't feel sexual, not in the least. It was...a comfort thing. It was fucking _cuddling_. But he didn't have the heart to stop, not when Swan was sleeping so soundly, chest rising and falling.

This was imprinting, he realized. This...this strange need to see her well. But then, he'd wanted that even when he wasn't imprinted. He'd only ever wanted her well. But now...now it burned, it made him...it wasn't anger. It was just...he _needed_ it. He needed her to be okay, so he'd be okay and that scared him. That honestly scared him.

She smelled...a little cleaner. Less sour. But that could have been Paul's scent burning out her own. Oh and his wolf liked that, purring beneath his skin like a well petted pup. He could have moved. He could have carried her to his room, took the couch for himself. But he didn't. He laid where he was, and listened to her breathe, listened to her heart. It was good for her, he could tell. He could _feel_ it. It was good for her, so it was good for _him_, and well...Paul was all about numero uno.

He fell asleep.

The front door opened slowly, but the hinges still creaked.

Paul opened his eyes to find Jacob Black standing in his living room, naked for anything but his shorts. "Don't wake her," he whispered quietly, easing up off the couch. Swan made a distressed noise, fingers curling weakly into his shirt. He transferred her hand to the pillow, and watched her promptly curl around it, burrowing deeper into the couch.

"I've never seen her sleep," Jacob murmured, pulling the old afghan off the back of Embry's chair. He laid it over her almost reverently, and Paul was reminded that once upon a time, Jacob had loved Swan very much. Swan had called him her sun, but she'd been his world.

Paul nodded, tilting his head toward the kitchen. "From what I hear, she doesn't do it often." He tensed, expecting Jacob's ire or wrath, expecting Jacob's punches.

None of it came.

Jacob...Jacob _crumpled,_ face and shoulders falling for miles. "You're _good_ for her," he said, sounding broken and tired. "I didn't believe it, when Jared showed me but, you are. Better than I was. I don't know what to say. I'm sorry for being such a shit about it."

Paul nodded. It was probably better that Jared told him about the imprinting. Paul wasn't sure he would have been able to do it without a smug smile on his face. "I-"

A howl rent the air, sharp and demanding. "Leeches," Jacob snarled, fingers curling over the the edge of the counter. "Shit, Bella-"

"I'll wake her up. Go tell Sam we're on our way. Swan can head for Emily's," he said, as he peeled off his shirt, dropping it on the couch. "Swan?" he shook her shoulder, smiling when she grumbled and swatted at him. "Come on now birdie, up and at em'. You need to go to Emily's okay?"

"What?" She blinked at him, rubbing at her eyes with the heel of her palm. "Emily. I...you found her? Victoria?"

Trust Swan to make that leap easily. "Sam's on the trail. I have to go. Go to Emily's, okay? Kim will be there too. It's four houses left of here. Em' will be awake, just knock." Another howl, echoed by four more. "I have to go. Straight to Emily's okay."

She grabbed his wrist as he stood up. "I...be careful, okay? And Jake? Tell Jake to be careful."

Pulling her up off the couch, he nudged her toward the kitchen. "Tell him yourself, birdie."

Jake was there, shifting nervously from foot to foot. "Hey Bells." And just like that, she was on him, wrapping her skinny arms around his waist. He laughed, pulling her in tightly as Paul watched. "I gotta go," Jake said. "We gotta go. But, we'll talk okay? You can call me, you know."

"I will," Swan swallowed, eyes glossy. "And...and I'm sorry for how I acted. For what I said. For lying. "

"Don't be. I was being a dick. We'll talk more. Promise. Go to Em's okay?" He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and the gesture was fond, brotherly. "Alright."

And then they were gone. Paul dragged ass until he heard Emily open up her door for Swan. With that, he shifted, following Jake's scent to the others. The leech was pushing in on the boarder, but Sam was on her, biting at her heels, Embry and Leah in tow.

_'What the hell was up with that text?'_ Jared asked, as they fell in line with each other.

Paul watched as Jacob caught up to Sam, Embry and Leah circling around them. Quil and Seth had taken a wider berth, splitting up to run parallel lines fifty feet out. They'd be ready of the leech cut left or right. '_What text_?'

_'You sent me a text earlier and all it aid was 'impressive in sweaters'. You need to turn off that shitty T9. That thing is worse than auto correct.' _

_ 'That's not what I texted.' _Paul frowned.

_ 'Well, what did you text then?' _

_ 'I...I don't know. But that wasn't it. And this isn't really the time to talk about it.' _

_'Can we talk about how chummy you were getting with Swan?'_

_'I was testing your theory! It was perfectly legitimate touching.'_

_'She was petting you, dude!' _

_'Kim pets you all the time.' _

_'Kim's my imprint. Swan's your...I don't know. Friend? Booty call?' _

_'She better not be your booty call,' _Jacob snapped. _'She doesn't need that. Not helpful.' _

_ 'She's not! Jesus Christ guys, get off my ass. I don't know, it helps her, okay? That was the idea, wasn't it? She's my friend, it's friendly. It was your idea, Jared!' _

_'Yeah, I don't remember telling you to feed her.' _Flashes of him and Swan on the couch shot through his mind, Swan's mouth wrapped around his for, pulling off slowly, licking her lips.

Paul blanked for a moment, before shaking himself. _'You're making that look dirtier then it was.' _

_ 'Oh no, that's exactly what Swan's mouth looks like wrapped around your...fork.' _

_ 'Guys!' _Sam barked. _'Not the time. We can talk later, Paul' _

_ 'There's nothing to talk about,' _Paul insisted.

_ 'You told Embry you needed to talk.' _

Paul frowned, confused for a moment. But he had talked to Embry, had asked him to talk to Sam. _'Jared has a theory on Swan, is all.' _

_ 'Right,' _Sam said, catching glimpses of he and Jared's conversation._ 'We'll talk later.' _

Again, the leech got away, but no one was surprised. The thing was wily. Oh, they'd gotten close, their tactic's adjusting as hers did. But in the end, there was nothing to show for it.

He took a moment to flash Jared's theory and his own opinions to Sam, who simply nodded, shifting to human before Paul could grab his thoughts on it. They walked back to Emily's under the shield of night.

Swan was curled up on Emily's couch, fast asleep. Paul picked her up wordlessly, pausing only when Sam stopped him near the door. "Her dad is out of town? She should stay on the Rez. Emily offered the guest room. It won't be a problem."

Paul shook his head. "She can stay at mine. She'll be more comfortable around someone she knows."

"She knows Emily," Sam replied, sounding amused. "Unless you really have gotten closer to her than your mind shows."

"We're friends," Paul said simply. "She doesn't...being here will just overwhelm her. Em's a sweetheart, but she'll fawn all over Swan, and she doesn't need that. She likes the quiet. I had plans for her this week anyway. I wanted to head to Hoquaim, but with the leech on our asses, I don't know-"

"Go." Sam leaned against the kitchen counter. "One more wolf won't catch the leech, and if we need you, you can be back in an hour on paw. Swan is...she's a priority too. Plus, you haven't been to Hoquaim in over a year. You haven't wanted to go. You want to go now, I wont' stop you."

"We'll leave in the morning then, I think." Paul didn't say anything else. Sam understood his situation better than almost any other, having an absent father himself. It wasn't to say that Paul's dad wasn't interested in his life, because the man was. It was more that...his dad had his own life now. And Paul had mostly chose not to be a part of it. For reasons.

In four hours, the sun would return, and for all that he and Swan had rested, Paul felt inexplicably exhausted. He tucked her away in his bed, and headed to the bathroom to wash up. There was dirt and wet leaves pasted to his skin, and mud caked between his toes. He watched it all swirl and catch in the shower drain. They had to catch her. The leech seemed to think twice about hunting in Forks, but that didn't stop her from outsourcing. The number of deaths in the surrounding counties were steadily on the rise. It was, Paul was sure, why Chief Swan was called to Seattle.

And while all that was horrible on it's own, Paul couldn't help but focus on the closer worries. Their pack was huge, made from necessity, but if they couldn't deal with the leech, it could only grow. The Hawkright boys, Brady and Collin, were already showing severe signs of aggression. Sam expected their shift to come by summer. Two more lives well and truly _fucked_.

He toweled off and strutted mother-naked to the living room to collect his keys and phone up off the floor. He tossed his keys on the kitchen counter and headed for Embry's bedroom. Embry had opted to finish out his night patrol, coasting the boarder with his nose to the ground. Paul sprawled out shamelessly, letting sleep take him away without so much as a second thought.

He didn't make it to dawn before he was up again, hurtling himself out of bed at the first cry of a wolf. The stench hit him before anything else, cloying-sweet with an undertone of undeniably dead.

_Leech_.

Paul phased before he even made it out of Embry's room, and managed to take out the entire left half of the door frame because of it. They were never getting their deposit back.

He could see Swan in his room through the open door, back flat against the closet door, with the sleeve of her shirt pressed over her mouth. Paul snarled, barreling forward. The leech was already out the window, the same way she'd come in, her cackling laugh exploding through the night. Paul had his paws on the window when Swan's voice cracked, muffled by her hand.

"Don't leave me alone."

_'Stay with her,' _Sam and Jacob both snapped, and Paul was surprised to find the Alpha tenor in both their voices. A trill of pride zipped through Sam; Jacob was finally getting it.

He phased back, snatching a pair to shorts off the floor and pulling them on. Swan was breathing shallow and rapid, hand still covered over her mouth. He realized what she was doing a moment later, and felt his own little trill of pride. She wasn't letting herself breath in the leech stench.

"Good," Paul said, shaking the growl from his voice. "That's good, birdie. Come on, come on, let's get out of here."

He shut the door behind them, and hoped the night breeze would pull the stench from his room. Pushing her down onto the couch, he forced her hand down, and grabbed her face in both his hands. "Deep breaths now, okay? In and out. Breathe with me."

She nodded, mouth falling open as she followed his breath. He felt her pulse slow where his fingers brushed her neck. "I-"

"Not yet," Paul cut her off. "Just breathe. Don't even think about it."

_Don't even think about it, Paul. The words, the memory hit him like a punch to the gut, Sam's firm voice, Jacob's snarling form. Swan, Swan standing there in front of him with her big brown eyes and her angry little frown and her aching palm from where she'd slapped him-_

"Paul?" Swan shook him free from the strange memory. Or was it a dream? He couldn't tell. It felt fuzzy, distant, almost as if it wasn't his at all. "Paul, are you...are you okay?"

"What? What, no I'm fine. Fine. Sorry, I just...I..." He blinked, heart hammering in his chest. "I should be asking you that. She didn't hurt you, did she?"

"No, I'm fine. I...I froze up, when I saw her. I couldn't move. I wanted to run, but I couldn't. I know it wouldn't have mattered, she's faster, but I couldn't even try, Paul! I couldn't even scream. I wanted to go to her, and...and I think she knew it. She was laughing at me. What is wrong with me?"

"Hey, none of that, okay? You did great, birdie. You did fantastic." Swan had wrapped her hands around wrist, nails biting into his skin there.

"She wanted me to come to her Paul and I...I wanted to. I think I still do." Her scent shifted, turning sour and dark again. "I was dreaming, when she opened the window. I was dreaming that she'd killed you, all of you. My dad, Jacob, the pack, Billy. I...she killed you all in front of me, but she wouldn't kill me too. She wouldn't. And I...I didn't want to be left behind, and she was laughing, and I just...I think I begged her to kill me to, but she wouldn't. I don't want to be left behind anymore Paul, please don't...please don't-"

"Hey," Paul snapped at her, shaking her by the face. "Breathe, dammit. Don't work yourself up again. No one is leaving you behind, Swan. No one. You're a part of our pack." Paul...Paul did not have the authority to claim as much, not at all. Jacob did though, and Paul was sure he would. "We're your family now, and we can't leave, Swan. We don't have that freedom. You'll never lose us."

Her glossy, empty eyes were pinned on his and oh how he hated that look. She grabbed him by the face, just like he held her, but again her nails bit into his skin, and her thumbs brushed his mouth. "You'll never leave me," she said, so empty and dead. "You can never leave me."

"No." Paul shook his head, agreeing if only to placate her. But it felt like the truth, the painful truth. Bella Swan belonged to them now. "Let it go, okay? Just let it all go. Let it go."

_Let it go. _

Paul blinked, the echo of Sam's voice still heavy in his mind. That had been an order, Paul remembered that much. He'd wanted Paul to stand down, to forget his anger, but Paul didn't remember being anger. He didn't remember being...

He didn't _remember_.

**A/N** I realize this is a pretty strange end to the chapter. Also, I want you guys to take notice of Paul's shift between remembering and not in this chapter because it's a lot more subtle than before. I know you all wanted him to remember for good, but that would be the end of the story and there is still so much to be done. However, clearly, big things, big progress has been made. The walls are starting to crack!

Also! Does any one remember the t9 autocorrect function? The original predictive text. That thing sucked. Also, imprinted on swan = impressive in sweaters. BAHAHAHA.


	12. Visions Of Evasion

**A/N **This chapter is grossly under-betad. Hope you like it anyway.

**Ev-vade: **[ih-vade] – verb.

To avoid something by trickery.

**Evade And Avoid**

**March 25th (the next morning). **

"You need to shower before we leave. It's impossible to erase your scent for obvious reasons, but we want it as muted as possible." They sat at the kitchen table, heavy lidded over cups of coffee. Neither had slept a wink the night prior. The chorus of howls had told Paul everything he needed to know; they hadn't caught the leech. The tension in Paul's shoulders told Swan the same thing. "Then we're going to mask it with another."

"What other?" Swan asked, with tired, sad eyes. She didn't look so haunted today, just weighed down by the weight of a world that had no place on her shoulders.

"Mine."

Paul was waiting in the room when Swan emerged from the shower, skin scrubbed raw and pink beneath borrowed clothes. "The Cullen's," she began, with a pained look, mouth pinched and eyes closed. "The Cullen's, when James chased me, they did something with my scent. They took my clothes and laid false trails. And it worked for a little while, but James was a tracker. Victoria's not. If you laid a false trail, she'd go for it."

Paul blinked at her, stunned silent for a long moment. "I have to call Sam. We need your clothing. We need-"

"Bedding," Swan cut him off, shaking her head. "My sheets would work best. If you cut them up, you could hide the pieces through out the woods. Small strips would be easy to tuck into the undergrowth, where my ankles would have brushed. It would look natural. Some of my hair too, in the trees. Vampires fixate; the Cullen's told me so." The information was offered up with a defiant little glint in her eye. "You'll need my blood. Just a little, just to scent. Victoria won't be able to _not_ follow it. She'll have too. You can lead her wherever you want her to go."

Again, he stared at her. It was like seeing her for the first time. It felt like something was missing, like something was there but he couldn't reach it. But Swan...she...she looked different. Tired. Sad. Resigned even. It was that last one he couldn't stand. It was that last one he couldn't handle. "Come here."

"What?"

He didn't ask again, just reached out and pulled her close. "It's a good idea. It's a _great_ idea." He crushed her against his chest, tucking her head up under her chest. "You did good, okay? I know talking about them is hard-"

"It's not," Swan told him, mouth muffled against his skin. "It's not hard if I don't want it to be, and I don't. I _don't_. They're not here. They're not here and-"

"We are," Paul told her, just as he had the night before. "We're here."

Swan looked up at him, with her usual wide-eyed worry but the resignation had shifted. She was determined now. "You're going to have to cut me. I can't do it. I have a...a thing about blood."

"I have a thing about cutting innocent girls," Paul replied, but he did as he was told. Paul understood sacrifice. He understood Swan, and her desire to bleed for the cause, because something just had to be done, no matter how unpleasant. He wasn't going to try and persuade otherwise her, not when a little of her blood could prevent the shedding of so much more. He dug through the drawer in the kitchen, hunting for the Embry's old buck-knife. "Where?"

"Leg. So my dad won't see. Back of the leg," she corrected with a wince. "So _I_ won't see."

Paul nodded grimly, snagging a clean dish rag off the counter. "Lower thigh would be best, I think. Just above the knee. Bend over the counter, there." He pointed to the sink with the tip of the knife. The tap dripped steadily, fat drops of well water thunking against the metal basin loudly. It was, of course, no match for the sound of her heart in his ears, which beat a fast tattoo, that screamed of fear.

She did so wordlessly, pushing Paul's sleep pants to her knees, and arching her back as she planted her hands wide on the sinks edge. He had to give her credit. Outwardly, she appeared as calm and collected as possible. But he could smell the barely contained terror, sour and stagnant, old and _clinging_.

She cleared her throat, letting her head fall forward, chin tucked against her chest. "Just do it. Just..." She shook her head. "Do it."

The knife opened with a click, and she jumped. He didn't give her any warning. It would only give her a chance to tense up. Dropping to his knees, he sliced into the tender pale skin, a good six inches above the back of her knee. The flesh gave like scissors to silk, parting with ease as he drew the knife across in one quick motion. Blood welled instantly, dripping down her leg, and he caught it in the towel. The cut was shallow, but her blood was thin, and it poured.

"You need to eat more," Paul muttered, thumbing and errant line of blood, and licking it off his thumb. "Or take a multivitamin, or something. Shit."

Swan sighed, thighs flexing beneath his palms as she shifted on her feet. "I'm trying the best I can."

"I know."

After tucking the bloody towel into a zip lock bag, Paul showered away the scent of Swan from his skin. Once finished, he found her wrapped up in his thin comforter, shoe-clad feet peeking out of the bottom.

"Can't wear my coat," she explained. "And this should mute my scent more. Sam called back; he's sending Jacob to pick up my bedroom stuff. I shoved some of my hair into the bag with the towel. Embry's going to come and get it."

"We need to stop by Kim's and get you some clothes to wear for tomorrow." Paul grabbed his keys phone off the counter, and texted Kim a short message. "She'll get something ready."

"Why are you taking me away? Why aren't you going after her too?" Swan asked abruptly, like the question had been burning the tip of her tongue for a while now. She looked at him expectantly, blanket slipping off her shoulder. Wrapped up in his scent like that, she looked a little more clear-eyed. Still not the spit-fire he'd come to know and...and know, but it was better.

He didn't bother to tell her that this plan had made prior to the leeches very daring attack. He knew without a doubt she wouldn't appreciate what he had planned, and had fully intended it to be...a surprise, for lack of a better word. Paul had a feeling Swan herself would call it an ambush.

"It's better this way. You'll be safe with me." Paul was itching to go after the leach, strung up and tied down as he was by the weight of the Alpha command. A vast majority of him craved to see the vampire dead, and what didn't, wanted to see Swan safe. _All_ of him agreed that they were one in the same though; _kill the leach, and Swan is safe. _

Swan gave him a strange look. "Edward doesn't think I'm safe with you. He tells me all the time. He didn't like Jacob either."

It wasn't what he was expecting, but maybe he should have, but she never spoke of that particular Cullen so boldly, before. She was scared of course, and fear seemed to be a trigger. He knew she had hallucinations, but...being confronted with that truth, well...it was hard to swallow. There were something Paul wasn't sure he could fix. Some things were just beyond him."Right now?"

"No." Shes sounded strangely unashamed of her hallucination. "He's never around when you are. He came around when I was with Jacob, but never you. I know he isn't there, I _know_ that. But...that doesn't keep me from seeing him. Especially when I'm in danger."

Something dawned on him then, like a light bulb in his head. "That's why you jumped off the cliff. You do stupid shit so you can see him again."

She huffed, a quiet little laugh escaping her lips. "Yeah. It started with the motorcycles. The pair I brought Jacob?"

He looked back at her, and couldn't help but ask. "What about when you were in the tree?"

She did look ashamed then, turning her gaze down into her lap. "I was thinking about jumping. I know it wouldn't have killed me. I don't think I was particularly suicidal, just...reckless. Plus, I knew if I thought about it, he would come. I...I liked having him there. I liked hearing his voice."

"And now?"

Her lashes fluttered as she closed her eyes. "I want him to go away but he won't. He's there all the time and he won't stop. I'm...I'm only safe from him when I'm with you." Which lead credence to the Jared's scent theory.

"Swan," Paul said gently, dropping to his knees in front of her chair. "There is a very real possibility that you have a condition known as schizophrenia. It's not something I can help you with."

Swan's eyes widened, and she grabbed him suddenly, by the front of his shirt. "That's not what this is," she said, vehemently, pulling Paul so close they could have kissed. "It's not. Don't give up on me, okay? It's better when I'm with you."

"Like it was with Jacob?" He laid his hand on hers, to still her trembling. "I don't want you to settle."

"I'm not settling." Her hand loosened in his shirt, but his hand didn't loosen on hers. "He was there, even when I was with Jacob. But with you...I don't want Edward around any more. It's not healthy. The last time...the last time he was there, with you, was that day I smacked you. The day I met you. He's never there anymore, when I'm with you, because I'm safe with you. Even from him."

What happened next was unexpected. Swan closed her eyes in the exact moment that Paul kissed her, just a dry, gentle press of lips. He reeled back when the screen door slammed, standing up just in time before the Sam himself stepped through the kitchen archway.

Sam took one look at him, before his mouth pinched and his shoulders tightened. "Jared sent over some clothes from Kim," he said, laying a plastic grocery bag on the table. "Paul, can I speak with you outside while Bella gets dressed?"

They stood in the front yard, watching the kitchen window out the corner of their eyes. Swan hadn't moved from her spot, and that worried Paul. He'd fucked up, and now Swan was left alone to freak out about it.

"What the hell do you think your doing?"

"Nothing," Paul lied shamelessly. "Swan was freaking out. We were talking."

Sam leaned forward, toward Paul's face, and sniffed. "Don't lie to me. Paul, she's...she's not well. You can't-"

"I wasn't! I made a mistake," Paul argued, running a hand roughly through his hair. "I...I don't know what I was thinking, okay? I didn't expect this."

Sam stared at him, his unblinking gaze enough to have Paul feeling naked and shamed. "Do you _like_ her?"

"She isn't like Jacob made her out to be." He looked down, hiding from Sam's penetrating glare. "She's...I don't know. I wasn't expecting this to happen. I didn't mean... She's just not like I thought she would be. Sam, she's...she's _crazy_. She's so fucking crazy but...but sometimes she's just-" He shook his head, and growled. "She said she was safe with me. She said she was _the safest_ with me, and I...I don't know what happened. I felt like I'd been kicked in the chest, and I don't know why Sam, but Swan...she fucks me up sometimes. I want so badly for her to just be...to be okay. Better. To be her best, and she said I do that and I-" He stopped abruptly at Sm's wide, startled gaze. "What?"

"Paul," Sam began in a voice that garnered nothing but worry. "Paul, when Bella's in trouble, and you can't protect her, where do you send her?"

Paul blinked. Was this a trick question? "With Emily and Kim. With the other im-" He stopped, as pain cut across his spine, so sharp he felt as if he'd been cut in half. It was gone as quick as it had come, and Paul forgot it instantly. "I just send her to Emily's. So they're all together."

Sam looked more worried. "So _who's_ all together, Paul?"

"This isn't really the time for this, Sam." Paul felt himself shiver, his wolf rearing it's head beneath the skin, suddenly desperate to phase. "The girls! So the girls are all together. Isn't that what we do? Isn't that how it's done?"

"It's a tradition, that when the Quileute warriors went to war, the _wives_ stayed together, yes," Sam explained, every word stilted and slow as if he were speaking to a small child, or someone not especially bright. It was the tone often reserved for Quil. "The previous Packs always kept their imprints together when they went to hunt."

"Exactly," Paul threw his hands up, frustrated and unduly agitated. "I don't understand it's even under question. You said yourself it's our job to keep Swan safe."

"Right," Sam nodded. "Right. Just...be careful with her. We'll talk more when you come back. Phase, if you get the chance, every other hour. I know it won't be easy with your father, but...we might need you."

"I have my phone too," Paul reminded him, rolling his eyes. "We should go."

When he'd returned from his talk with Sam, she'd simply gathered Kim's clothes and headed for the bathroom. When she returned to the kitchen, it was in a comfortable looking sweater and too-big jeans. "I'm ready," she'd declared with a nervous looking smile.

That was good, right?

Swan fell asleep halfway to Hoquaim. It wasn't a long drive, per se, but it wasn't exactly a day trip either. Paul didn't make the voyage nearly as often as he should have, all things considered. There were just somethings, things in Hoquaim, he wasn't ready to face. But for Swan, he'd set it aside. Her baggage was far more concerning than his own, and there were answers in Hoquaim Swan needed, that Paul couldn't give.

Like a first hand account of recovery.

He grabbed his phone up from the center console, and scrolled through the contacts. His father picked up on the second ring.

_"Well shit son, I ain't heard from you in a while."_ It was light, congenial. Paul's dad never judged him for his sparse visits. He was even known for making a few trips to La Push, when he could.

"It's been busy around these parts. Sam runs his boys pretty hard," Paul replied, quietly. "Listen, I know it's short notice, but I'm about an hour out and I was wondering if you could put me up for a night?"

There was silence, ticking on like an eternity._ "You never stay the night here. You don't even like coming to the house."_ He could hear his dad swallow hard. _"You're not in trouble are you?" _

"No, no trouble. I just...I need a favor. It's not money, before you ask. I didn't wreck mom's car again, I don't need you to sign any detention or suspension slips, or give my probation officer an alibi." All of which he'd done in the past, and all of which his dad had helped him with. Never let it be said Paul Lahote Sr. was a bad father, because he wasn't. Not anymore. "I'm...I'm doing alright now, dad. I just need a favor."

_"Well what is it, kiddo? You know I'll help where I can." _

"Can I tell you when I get there? I just need to crash in your guest room for the night and like, an afternoon of your time." Maybe more, but Paul wasn't going to push it.

_"I can give you that. It's slow season around these parts, so my evenings are free. I should see you in about an hour?" _

"Yeah. Uh...is Linda around?"

_"She's at her mothers," _his father replied, sounding weary._ "Should be there all evening." _

"Awesome."

"_Paul_."

"It's not for whatever you think, okay? And can we not get into that? I don't want to get into that. Linda is great, you know I like Linda. She's a wonderful woman." She was. His father's new wife was a respectable member of the Hoquiam Tribe, who worked as a nurse at the local high school by day, and moonlighted at the hospital. She liked to bake and knit and her voice could summon freaking flocks of woodland creatures. She was wonderful.

Paul didn't like her.

"Just...can we not talk about that? This isn't about that."

_"Well alright,"_ his father replied, with a cease-fire tone. _"Just come on by." _

When Paul pulled into the driveway, parking his car behind his fathers truck, Swan was still asleep. He left her there, intent to explain things to his father without her hearing.

Paul Lahote II, was standing on the porch with a worried frown. "Please tell me she's not-"

"She's not pregnant," Paul said tightly. "Thank you for the vote of confidence, though."

His father gave him a soft look. "Always so touchy. Tell me what's going on."

"She's an addict," Paul informed him, cutting to the chase. His father would appreciate it. "Morphine." The withdrawal effects were most parallel to morphine, at least. Paul had done his research.

"Paul." An honest spark of anger lit his fathers voice. "You can't just mess with that. You can't just-"

"I know," Paul cut him off. "But by the time I found out, she'd already been clean for a long while, dad. I'm talking... six months, all on her own. And this is her first attempt at quitting. You know that's big. But she had her first setback last week. Nothing huge, barely a hit, but it's messed with her. And I just need you to talk to her. Tell her things I can't. She's doing so good. She's..."

"All the girls you could have picked, you picked a junkie?" His dad asked, running a tired hand down his face. "Didn't you learn nothing from your mother?"

Paul felt himself shrink back, instantly fourteen years old beneath the tired tone of his fathers voice. "You got better. She can too."

"Yeah." His dad pulled him in for another hug, before reaching up to ruffle his hair. Paul let him. "I just want better for you. You shouldn't...you never should have had to..." He shook his head, clearing his thoughts in the same way Paul found himself doing so often. "Why don't you go wake her up?"

The year Paul hadn't visited was evident all through out the house, but Paul ignored it, heading straight for the guest room. Linda had once called it Paul's room but he'd been firm in telling her that wasn't necessary. It was still done up for him though, painted in smokey blues with a dark-wood dresser against one wall, and a full sized bed against the other. There was a picture of he and his father propped up on the night stand, one of the last in existence. Paul must have been fifteen, maybe sixteen. He looked surely in his rented tux, but his dad was beaming, a brand new wedding ring shining brightly from his finger.

Paul dumped their duffel bag off onto the dresser, and stared at the horizontal stripes lining the bedspread. One bed. He and Swan had shared a bed before, of course. It wasn't' weird. It didn't have to be weird.

Except for the fact that he'd kissed her. They hadn't talked about it. Paul was pretty sure they needed to.

"You ready?" He asked, as Swan appeared shut the bathroom door behind her.

Swan blinked at him, mouth pulling into a frown. "Ready for what?"

"Hi, I'm Paul Lahote." His father introduced himself as soon as he and Swan entered the living room. "Senior," he added with a laugh. "I don't suppose you'd call Paul 'PJ' to avoid confusion, though."

"No one but you has called me that since I was eleven," Paul grumbled, crossing his impressive arms over his impressive chest. "She can call you Mr. Lahote if you're that easily, old man."

"Hey now, who you calling old? I was sixteen when you were born, I could be your brother." He shot Paul a quick smile, but dropped it when it wasn't returned. "Right."

She took his proffered hand in a weak shake. "Bella Swan," she said, shooting Paul a confused look. "I'm sorry, Paul didn't tell me we'd be visiting his family."

Paul's father gestured for them to sit, and so he did, pulling Swan down with him. "PJ told me you were addicted to morphine."

Swan was silent for a long moment, but Paul could hear her heart rabbiting in her chest. "Did he now?"

"Did he tell you I'm a recovering heroin addict? I've been clean six years now." Paul couldn't help the little frisson of pride that shot through him at his dad's words. His father had worked hard to stay clean, Paul knew that.

"He mentioned your past when he was explaining why I needed help." She bit her lip. "I've...been clean for a while now. But there was an...incident."

"They happen and they're never fun. After the rush wore off, what did you do?" Like Paul himself, his father was a straight-to-the-point kind of man.

"Puked," Swan told him, with a glint in her eye. "On Paul. I felt like all my bones had been broken. I still feel like all my bones have been broken. I felt gutted. It was horrible. I thought I was going to die."

His father smiled. "Not really worth it, is it?"

"Depends on when you ask me," Swan replied dryly. It wasn't the answer Paul would have liked to hear, but his dad seemed to admire the honesty.

His dad laughed. "You're...surprisingly calm right now. I'm assuming this slip up was fairly recent."

"Two days ago." Had it only been two days? Paul felt as if he could sleep for a year. "It wasn't much. Barely anything. But it messed me up. I don't like what it did to me."

"It was a long time before I could go six months without any slip-ups," his dad admitted. "So, already, you're doing better than I did. You should be proud."

Swan shook her head. "I don't know about that. I mean, it isn't available to me. If it was, I don't know if I could say no."

Paul Sr. gave her a serious look, narrowing his eyes. "Now, I don't know about that. Everything is available, if you want it bad enough. I once drove all the way to Port Angelas on a moped in November, for a fix. Don't sell yourself short. If you wanted it, you'd find it."

Swan looked away then, mouth pinching. "Maybe."

His father pushed on. "Some people say cold-turkey is better, but it can be dangerous to the seriously addicted. Not that any addiction isn't serious, but some people are in it deeper."

Swan didn't look at Paul as she spoke. "I was...under the influence every waking our of every day for...a year? Maybe a little less. And then my supplier left."

"Boyfriend?" Paul's father hedged, gently. "That's often how these things get started. It's-" His words fell flat, eyes flickering to Paul, and then to his lap.

"It's fine Dad," Paul waved it off. He knew about his dad's girlfriends, the ones he had when he was married to Paul's mother. But his dad wasn't the man he was back then. "Go on."

Swan spoke. "I didn't realize I was addicted until they were gone, and even then it was a long while before I realized what...what I was going through. The withdrawal. I just thought I was going crazy." She smiled then, depreciating, and secretive. "Paul actually pointed it out. He was the first to notice. Or maybe he was just the first one to look at me close enough to see it. Every one else...No one else knew that I was..." She faltered, at a loss for the right word.

"Using? Or had used. Yeah, PJ would know the signs. He saw a lot of things he shouldn't have, at too young an age. But you seem alright, right now. More...cognizant, than I would have managed, so recently after a slip up. It's a good sign. PJ's right; you're strong. I'm not sure why he's brought you to me." His brown eyes flickered back to Paul, questioning but calm.

Paul looked away from his father, to the photos behind him hanging on the living room wall. Matching black frames in various sizes, smiling faces beaming out behind the glass. The house was far beyond the little cottage his mother owned on the Rez. "I just wanted Swan to see that it was possible to overcome the addiction, and the withdrawal. To...to make a life for yourself again. A new life."

His father's face tightened. "Paul, I didn't-"

"A little bit, you did," Paul argued, waving his hand flippantly, shaking his head. "I don't want to get into that. That's not why we're here."

"You never want to get into that," his father snapped. "Paul, I know-"

Paul tensed. "You really don't."

"I don't know what you want me to say!" His father threw up his hands. "I don't know-" A cry broke out above them, startling both Swan and Paul.

Paul looked up, toward the stair case. "It's...here. You said Linda was at her mothers. "

"And she is, for a girls day or whatever," Paul Sr. explained. "It's been two months. They've cut the umbilical cord by now, Paul. Not that you'd know because you haven't-"

"Why wouldn't she take him with her? Why do you have him?" Paul didn't mean to sound so...so horrible, as he spoke, but it came out that way anyways.

His father looked pained. Swan looked...quietly alarmed. "Why would she take him, if I was going to be home anyway?"

Because in Paul's mind, mothers raised children. Not fathers. It wasn't relevant to now though, so he shoved the thought away. "We should go." Paul pushed up from the couch. "This was a mistake. I thought Swan might like talking to some one who understood. I thought it might help but-"

"It did," Swan cut him off, curling her palm over his arm. "It does. I...have no idea what's going on between you two, but I don't think we should leave just yet. Sam said to take the day off," she said pointedly. Right. They couldn't go back to Forks anyway. Not until tomorrow.

Paul looked at his dad, but no words would come. Another cry broke the silence, tiny and desperate. "You should go get that, I guess."

His dad didn't say anything, as he shouldered past Paul, toward the stairs. Swan waited until he was gone, before she spoke. "I don't know why you'd bring me here when you so clearly have...have things to deal with."

"Because I want to help you. You said it helped."

"It helps to know I'm on the right track, but I don't want help at your expense, Paul. You shouldn't have-" She tapered off as Paul Sr appeared at the bottom step, a squirming bundle wrapped tight in his arms.

"So that's..." Paul couldn't even say it. It made him _mad_, even though he knew it shouldn't. It just made him so damn mad. "Him."

His dad smiled down at the bundle. "Yep. This is your little brother." He hefted the baby up in his arms, tugging at the blankets so a chubby pink face was visible.

"My little brother _Paul_," he spat, clenching his hands. "Paul Jr, right? You named your new son after you like you didn't already have one." He snapped his mouth shut, angry that he'd said anything at all. He hadn't meant too.

His fathers mouth fell open. "Is that what you thought? God, no wonder you haven't been by since Linda got pregnant. Paul, no. I wasn't...I wasn't replacing you. We named him after you."

"...What." It barely came out as a question, just a blunt word that all but fell out of his mouth.

"We named him after you. Or well, I did. I mean, people assume he's named after me, but I know it's for you. He's Paul David Lahote, after you and Linda's father. Linda wanted to name him after the most important people in our lives. " He looked at Paul sadly. "Did you really think I was replacing you?"

"You replaced mom," Paul muttered, instantly embarrassed by his own mouth. "Sorry, I didn't mean that. I didn't really think you were replacing me." Except for that he did. He really did.

"It's okay if you did," Swan said quietly. She looked at Paul Sr quickly, and shrugged. "At least, I mean I think it's okay if you do. When Renee married Phil, I felt like I didn't even fit in her life any more. That's why I moved back to Forks with Charlie."

"Renee. Bella." His father's face twisted into something absolutely horrified. "Oh God. You're Charlie Swan's girl. Oh _honey_."

"You can't tell my dad," Swan said at once, pleadingly. "I'm...I'm so much better. That slip up, it was nothing, I found something under my floor boards, but there isn't any more, I can't slip up again, you can't tell him-"

"He's not going to tell him," Paul said at once, grabbing her hand. "Hey, shh. He's not going to tell. It stays in this room. Right dad?"

His dad faltered, but Paul's stare was unrelenting. "Right. But you know honey, Paul might not be enough help for you. You might need-"

"He's all I need," Swan said at once, and then blushed. "I mean...I mean, I'd be lost without him. I can't imagine any one helping me but him. No one else knows what I need like he does."

Paul ignored his dad's smirk. "Well, I need to get the baby a bottle. Would you like to hold your brother?"

Paul faltered. He hadn't come to terms with having a brother yet, hadn't bothered to even try. That baby...that baby had been the cause of a massive amount of resentment and anger. He didn't trust himself to hold it. "I don't know if I should."

"It's fine, really. You just-"

"Can I hold him?" Swan asked, cutting his father off. "Here, I'll show Paul how to hold the head. You go get his bottle."

Paul's father hesitated a moment, before settling the baby into her arms. "I'll be right back."

Swan sat down on the couch, holding the baby tight to her chest. "He didn't want to give me the baby because he thinks I'm a drug addict," she said, and with a tired laugh. "Alright, come on. Sit down."

"I have a brother," Paul said quietly to himself. "I'm a werewolf, I hunt vampires, and I have a brother."

"One of those is not like the other," Swan said softly, brushing her fingers across the baby's forehead. "You didn't tell me."

"I don't like to think about it." He sat down beside her, stiff limbed and awkward. "It's been a busy year. With the whole leech thing, and then you-"

Swan looked positively offend, almost snotty even. "I've been in you're life maybe two weeks, and I didn't ask you for help, you offered. So don't pin your crap on me, _PJ_." Her eyes flared and Paul...Paul froze.

Because Swan...Swan looked like _Bella_ then. Not Jacob's Bella, or the Cullen's Bella, or even that lost little thing that the wind blew in his senior year. This was the Bella he saw when he was little, when Chief Swan brought his little girl over to play with Jacob. When Paul made time to play with the twins. He didn't much like the twins, they were mean in tandem, and very well known for shoving sand down his shorts. His mother called it _pulling pig tails, _which Paul always resented because he was a boy, thank you.

But Paul made time for the twins when Chief Swan brought Bella over.

Because Paul...Because Paul...

"You haven't called me PJ in years." He stared at her. Felt something shift. Felt something inside of him squirm. The voice in his head, the one that sounded like his mother and was probably his conscious, whispered _butterflies_.

His wolf purred _mine_.

Both were disconcerting, to say the least.

Swan snorted, bouncing the baby in her arms when he fussed. His father would return any moment, he could hear him tinkering around the kitchen. "Of course I haven't," Swan told him, rolling her eyes. "I even didn't know you went by PJ."

"Yes you did." Paul made a face, discouraged that she didn't remember. "You use to come to Forks every summer. The Chief always brought you to Billy's. I remember you playing in the mud with Jake when Jared and I would come over and play with twins."

Swan stared. "Were you the mean little kid that like to dump sand down my shorts?"

"...no. That was Jake." It was totally Paul, but he'd rather she didn't remember that. Also, _pulling pig tails. _

"No, Jake never did that. He ate dirt in front of me, but that was the extent of it." She shrugged. "I don't think I remember you. Rachel and Rebecca didn't hang out with Jake and I very often, so neither did their friends."

That was true, but Paul still remembers Swan, lurking there at the edges, with her messy brown pig tails, and her filthy over-alls. "Oh. It doesn't really matter. I just remembered that I...well, that I remembered you, I guess." It wasn't important. He didn't even know why he thought of it.

"Do you want to hold him now?" She adjusted the baby in her arms, holding him out so Paul didn't have a choice but to take him.

It was warm...and squirmy. Paul had never held a baby before (it never came up, okay?), and wasn't exactly sure what to do. "I'm pretty sure my left shoe weighs more than this thing."

"It's not much, but I made you both some sandwiches," his father said, stepping into the living room, the baby bottle tucked into the crook of his arms, both hands laiden with plates. "You look like you shouldn't be missing meals," he added, to Swan.

"Paul's said as much," she said with a snort. "Thank you."

Paul ignored his own sandwich, busy staring down at his brother. He knew, realistically, with everything going down (leeches, addicts, weird childhood memories), that coming to terms with his father's new family wasn't a priority, but it was hard to ignore when he was holding eight pounds of proof. "I'm pretty sure my left shoe weights more than him."

"You were little too," his father told him, settling back down on the other couch. "But look at you now, eh? You must take after your mother, or something. Lahote men aren't known for height, sad to say."

Except Paul didn't take after his mother. His hands clenched unconsciously into the soft blue blanket. This baby, he was his fathers son. He was a Lahote, one in a line of many. He'd carry the same gene Paul himself did.

"Here, why don't you feed him while Bell and I talk." His father asked, handing him the bottle. "Come on honey, why don't we take that into the kitchen. I forgot to grab you a drink anyway."

"Alright," Swan said, casting him a quick, worried look.

Paul flashed her a smile. "Go on. Pretend I'm not here, if it helps."

"How would that help?" She asked, with such a stark honesty, Paul felt his stomach clench.

He wasn't sure how he felt, left alone with the baby. At first, he couldn't help but sniff at it, soaking in the scent, so like his own, but at the same time, not. The wolf accepted it as family almost instantly, a foreign curl of protectiveness welling up inside of him. Family meant pack. The kid was pack. The wolf could smell it in him, the hint of what could be. What Paul hoped would never come to be.

He shifted the kid in his arms awkwardly, curling his forearm up under the tiny bulk of the baby's body, like a football. How had Swan done it? Effortlessly, from the looks of it. Luckily, feeding the thing was as simple as pressing the bottle to it's mouth.

He could hear Swan and his father talking in the kitchen, about nightmares and losing touch with reality. He tried not to listen, tried to offer a modicum of privacy, but it was a fruitless effort. Instead, he poured his focus onto the baby, with it's tuft of curly (from Linda) brown hair, and gold-brown eyes (his father). It had dimples too, just like Paul himself.

"I've been a dick," he told the baby, pulling the bottle away when it was empty. The baby hiccuped loudly, and Paul flailed, unsure of what to do. "Uh..."

Some one cleared their throat from the front door, and Paul looked up to find Linda standing their, keys in hand. He'd been so focused on the baby (and his inner turmoil, let it never be said Paul didn't know how to brood), he hadn't heard her come in. It was alarming.

She smiled at him, a bright white smile that spoke of money. "Might want to tell him your name first." She stepped forward, and gathered the baby up before Paul could protest. Not that he could really, it was her baby.

Before he knew what was happening, she'd settled the kid against his shoulder, lifting Paul's hand to support his butt and back. "Now you just pat his back gently."

Paul did so, hesitantly. "Dad's talking to my...friend, in the kitchen. About stuff," he explained. "We won't be here long. We'll leave in the morning."

"You're always welcome here Paul," Linda told him, smiling when the baby burped. "This stuff, I'm assuming it has nothing to do with contracting."

"Not unless you're talking about quick ways to contract hepatitis."Linda laughed, and Paul watched as her hand fluttered to her stomach, and rubbed. He sucked in a deep breath, catching the faint hint of something a little too sweet. He'd smelled it before, on the Rez, and even once in his senior year. "You're pregnant again?"

She stared at him with wide eyes, mouth falling open in surprise. "How can you know that? I only found out today. I just took the test at my mothers."

He tried not to panic. Paul hadn't had any of these pup mistakes since his first year. "The test is sticking out of your purse," he said in a rush, looking toward the black bag hanging off her shoulder, where the purple end of a pregnancy stick was, in fact, sticking out. "You guys didn't waste any time."

The look she gave him screamed no-nonsense. Linda wasn't taking any of his shit; she never really had. "Well, your dad's so proud of his first one, I think he was eager to make a few more. If it's a girl, he'll probably call her Paulina."

"Oh God, don't let him do that. I mean, Polly if you absolutely have to, but I'm barring Paulina as my namesake, that's horrible." It was hard to hate Linda when she was standing right there, being awesome. "I've been a dick," he repeated.

She shrugged. "I think I get it. But Paul, to me you've always been a part of this family. Not...not a part of _his_ family. I know you look at me and see you're fathers wife, but when I look at you I see a step-son."

_Very_ hard to hate Linda when she was standing right there, being awesome.

His father took that moment to interrupt. "Hey, I thought you were doing the girl thing with your mom?" Paul looked away when they kissed, because that was his dad and his step-mother, and that was gross.

"Hospital called, they need me to cover a shift tonight. And actually, I had something to tell you." She shot Paul a nervous look, and he did best to look encouraging. "I'm pregnant."

His father blinked once, before looking at Paul with shameless worry. He felt like a dick for putting that look on his father's face. "You can't name it Paulina if it's a girl," he said seriously.

"Polly if you have too, but not Paulina," Swan said, reclaiming her seat beside Paul. "You know he puked all down your back, right?"

**A/N** I so did not want to end it here, but I knew I would be busy all Wednesday and wouldn't get a chance to work on it. I swear that I'm getting somewhere. Also, sorry for not posting last week, it was my birthday. An

So, Sam knows somethings up and Paul's realized he's noticed Bella for quite a while.


	13. Revolving Revolutions (Lot's to like)

**A/N **As I said once before, life sometimes gets in the way. I've been stupid busy, and I hate missing update posts! Hate it! But that's life. It should settle soon though, but in the mean time you may not here from me for the next two weeks, but after that it will be back to the regularly weekly updates, promise. I will try my best to get an update in, but they might be sporadic, which I hate. I just didn't want to leave you guys hanging this time around. That blows. But know that no story of mine has ever gone totally abandoned. Every story gets it's end.

Reformatting the pack speeck was a horror show, but it should be better. I had to delete the original chapter 13, and post a new one. Sorry about all the trouble. Freaking Google Docs...

Anyway, this chapter has BIG THINGS in it. Big things. Big. Big.

rev·e·la·tion

[rev-_uh_-ley-sh_uh_n]

_**noun**_

**1.**

the act of revealing or disclosing; disclosure.

**2.**

something revealed or disclosed, especially a striking disclosure, as of something not before realized.

**MARCH**** 26****th****, ****early****in****the****morning****. **

"Shut up, I just thought that's how babies smelled. It's not like I've dealt with a lot of them," Paul grumbled. Swan averted her eyes as he dropped his pee-soaked shorts before pulling on a clean pair. "Clearly I had the right idea." Babies were gross.

"You love that baby," Swan teased. "You didn't even want to give him back to Linda."

Which was kind of true. Paul would have liked to blame it on his wolf, who practically purred 'pack' every time it caught a whiff of the little rug-rat, but he couldn't. "When I was little, before my dad got bad or maybe just before I noticed, I wanted a brother. I remember telling my mom that I'd even settle for a sister if I had to, but I really wanted a brother. Must been about the time Aunt Jeanie had Jared's little brother."

Swan smiled, small and fond; it made Paul's insides squirm. "A majority of my teen years were spent in a state of constant fear that my mother would get pregnant and I'd have to raise a child while raising my mother. I made her switch to the shot even though she complained about the weight gain. Charlie though...I don't know. I think he kind of deserves a kid he'd get to raise but my mother sort of burnt him out on women. I probably burnt him out on kids."

"Chief Swan's crazy about you though," Paul told her. "When you moved back, he couldn't shut up about it. Nagging Billy about the truck, getting Sue to help him pick out bed stuff. Hell, I remember dropping by the Clearwater house to pick something up for my mom, and the Chief was there freaking out about teenage girls and how he had no idea what to do with one. Sue was patient with him, but Harry thought it was funnier than all hell."

Dinner was...awkward. Awkward in that Paul had spent a vast majority of the past year steadfastly refusing any and all invitation. Linda had left before the plates were even set, hair pulled into a messy bun, and her scrub top on backwards. Paul's dad had explained it was hormones, or something about the new baby. Claimed he should have known she was pregnant just from the ass-backward way she'd been acting. Apparently, she'd done the same with PJ.

(Paul had gladly passed down that unfortunate nickname to the kid.)

Paul Sr. had cooked with Swan's assistance, while Paul held the kid and did his best to look grumpy about it. It wasn't until the sun had sunk down past the trees and dinner was done, that Paul remembered Sam's request.

"I need to make a phone call," he said, excusing himself from the living room. "I'll take it out back."

His dad asked who he was calling so late, but Paul was already shaking into his phase. He heard Swan answer for him though. "He promised Sam he'd get a hold of him. Something about a job."

_It__'__s__our__job__to__protect__. _Paul smiled.

'_What's the word?' _He asked, feeling only Sam and Jacob phased.

'_She hasn't dropped in yet,' _Sam informed him. _'The trail is laid. You can smell the blood all the way from Forks. Now we wait.' _

'_I'll phase back in a few hours, after everyone's gone to bed. Call my phone though, if something comes up.' _He could hear the baby fussing in the living room, and his dad calling it an early night.

Paul found Swan nodding off at the end of the couch. She looked impossibly exhausted, the weight of the days catching up to her. Without a word of warning, he scooped her up. She protested, though it lacked her usual indignation.

"Legs; I have them." Even as she said it, she laid her head on his shoulders. "Your dad thinks we're dating."

"I'll tell him we're not. Sorry."

Swan made a noise, muffled against his shirt. "I told him we weren't. Yet. I mean. Just...I said it, but I didn't mean to, and I thought you should know just in case he said something. It was stupid. Presumptuous. I don't know why I said it. It just...came out. He asked and I said not yet." He could feel heat flair in her cheeks. "He thought that was funny."

"It's...not presumptuous," Paul said awkwardly. He couldn't tell her how he'd gone into this thinking only of himself, of his pack, of preventing Leah 2.0. He couldn't tell her how he couldn't look at her now without seeing something else, something strong and defiant and...maybe a little crazy and desperate. Despite the...no,_in__spite_ of the crazy and desperate, Paul still thought there was something about Swan worth respecting. "Now just isn't the time. It would be easy for you to develop an attachment based on...on..." His clinical words fell flat, and he sighed.

She nodded, even as he set her down on the bed. "You don't want me to let myself settle. You don't want to question what I want from you or feel from you or whatever."

"I don't think you're in the right place for a relationship." He sat down beside her, awkward and tired and so many other things. This wasn't something he did, these kind of conversations with girls. Women. He was a love em' and leave em' with a smile on their face type of guy. "It would be easy for you to confuse genuine affection with an emotional crutch. You even admitted to being confused about your feelings for Jacob. And I... I like you. Most of you. There are things about you I wasn't expecting when I volunteered to help you. Things that honestly scare me. And beyond that, I wasn't expecting to like you."

"Wow. Tell me how you really feel." She stared at him with wide eyes. "I don't want to doubt. Tired of doubting, you know? But...I still feel like I need you. To get better. But that's a crutch, isn't it?"

"No." Paul flopped back on the bed, but Swan didn't. "It's okay to need help. To ask for it. Hell, it's okay to _expect_help. That was one of my fathers problems. He's always been...prideful, I guess. Insisted he didn't have a problem and if he did, he could damn well work it out on his own. But he couldn't. So yeah, no. You can need me all you want. I'm going to do what I can to help you. But not just me."

"The pack."

How the moment had somehow shifted into therapy hour, Paul couldn't say. But Swan seemed willing to talk, and Paul had been waiting for it. "Yes, the pack." He tugged on the back of her shirt until she laid down beside him. "I know you're not really ready to trust anyone else or talk to them. But you kind of need to buck the fuck up and move along, birdie. They know what I know. But they aren't going to give you shit for it. You don't need to talk about your shit with them, just you know...open yourself up a bit or something. Let yourself be comfortable. Consider the pack your safe zone."

Swan wrinkled her nose and stared at the ceiling. "It's weird because they know. It use to drive me crazy when people would talk about me, not even behind my back. Just...like I wasn't there at all. 'All this because her boyfriend moved' and 'he was way to good for her anyway' and 'I heard he had a girlfriend in California this whole time'." She turned and looked at him, a tangle of brown hair spilling over her shoulder and onto his. "But they didn't know, you know? And it made me want to scream. And now it's worse because this whole time I thought I was just...pining," she made a face, half flinch and half grimace. "It was something else. And no one knows. No one will ever know; I just look crazy."

"Swan. You hear voices. You _are_a little crazy, but the pack knows. They know it's not your fault, that you're dealing with a fuck ton of shit. So if you started screaming, they wouldn't judge you. Much. "

She laughed. swatting at his shoulder. "I do miss Jacob. And I like Embry. He's sort of calming, isn't he? And Emily..." Swan snorted. "It's hard not to like her. Looking at her made me feel bad for acting like I have. She's been through so much, but she's always looking toward tomorrow."

"Emily's like our Pack Mom," Paul reasoned. "She kind of has that effect on all of us. Whenever one of the guys gets in a funk about the werewolf thing, she bakes them a cake. Honest to god, she bakes them a cake for their pity party, and just...no one can stay mad or sad or whatever when Emily of all people is rolling freaking fondant because you decided to be a little bitch."

"She made me cupcakes." Swan laughed, an unholy little giggle that sounded unlike anything he'd ever heard from her mouth.

"Everyone in the pack has their place. Emily knows hers." Paul grinned. "She's the perfect dose of levity for Sam. I don't know if it's just her, or if it's the imprint, but she's everything Sam needs. There was this time, when we were hunting those other nomads, and Sam was just...kind of losing it, you know? And he came home, and he was just...covered in blood. Covered head to toe in blood, some of it probably even his, and he comes home...and there's Emily. Covered in flour. Not even just her.

The whole kitchen was white. When Emily freaks out, she bakes. So...Sam was out hunting these leaches with his newborn, untrained pack and Emily was baking and Sam gets home and...and the first thing Emily says is_ '__don__'__t__you__dare__get__blood__on__my__floor__, __Samuel__Uley__!_ And Sam laughed. Laughed like he hadn't just spent the whole night chasing monsters, and it's what he needed. And since the pack needs Sam and Sam needs Emily, the Pack needs Emily too."

Swan rolled onto her belly, and looked down at him. "Where's your place?" His smile faltered.

Paul picked up one of her loose curls, and fiddled with the end."My wolf is...more violent than the others. Blood thirsty, even. That tends to translate through me. With the whole short temper and everything."

"You've never lost your temper with me and I'm sure I've pissed you off plenty." She laughed again, mouth pulling up into a half smile. "In fact, you use to call me leech lover. You use to hate me. But you never lost your temper."

Paul felt his wolf shiver, tension curling between his shoulder blades for no reason he could see. It snarled _'__remember__'_, but Paul _did_remember. "I did." He looked up at her with a furrowed brow. "That was the day we met? Or...no, I'd known you before that, when you were little. But we'd never spoken, really. But that day, you came to Jake's house. You were pissed."

"I couldn't handle losing him too. Not when I felt like he was the only thing holding me together. And in some ways, he was. When he disappeared, I was sure I..." She laid her hand on his cheek. "I slapped you. I remember that. And then you and Jake phased and yeah...that was only two weeks ago."

Two weeks? Had it only been just that? "You stayed at Emily's that night. And I found you in the bathroom."

"God." Swan breathed, pulling her hand away. She looked beyond him, to where the moon's light peeked through the curtains. "God, I could smell the blood on you. I didn't know that's what it was then, but I saw you and I...I was scared, but I just wanted to rub all over you." She blinked, cheeks pinking. "I can't believe I just said that."

Paul laughed. "I wondered why you leaned into me. It was weird. I mean I get it now, but it confused my wolf. He uh...that's actually what I meant by my wolf being kind of more violent. He thought you were prey, right up until you moved closer. Then he kind of wanted me to fuck you." He bit back a smirk, wondering how she'd react. _Prude_.

"Yeah." Flushing an even deeper shade of red, Swan looked away. "You told me I was pretty when I cried."

"I'm kind of a dick. But yeah, you're real' pretty when you cry. Even prettier when you're pissed off. My wolf really likes that." He scratched his head, and ran the palm of his hand down his face. "But really, he liked how scared you smelled. The fear. Coming off the hunt like I had, the wolf just...really liked it."

"Don't I always smell scared?" She asked, and it was only half playful.

he gave an exaggerated sniff, and yeah, it was there, just a sour hint of fear. "Not as much as you use to, but yeah. Less than before. Maybe one day you won't smell scared at all."

Her smile fell for half a second, but Swan pushed on. "Yeah, maybe. No. I don't know. Because even with this...this thing...even when it's gone, and when Victoria's gone..." She shook her head, and sucked in a long, loud breath. "Now I think I'm scared he'll come back."

Paul blinked, then swallowed. Swan...didn't talk about him much, and never without great duress. "When's the last time you saw him?"

He watched her eyes shift, turning vacant. "September 14th."

"When's the last time you saw him, Swan?" Paul asked again, reaching up to take her chin into his hand. He pulled her face until their eyes met. "Hey. Come on. You can trust me."

"Freaks you out," she told him, with a smile. "It's been a while. Sometimes I hear him, but I don't see him like I use to. Maybe because I'm not...throwing myself off cliffs?"

"Jacob still thinks you fell." Or at least, Jacob liked to tell himself she'd fallen.

"Maybe in a way, I did." She shrugged, and traced her finger over the rose-print comforter on the bed. "Hitting that water? It thought that was my bottom. Then Jake imprinted on Leah. And..." She ducked her chin down. "I called you Jake that day. You got _huffy_."

Paul flicked her in the shoulder. "Why would I want to be mistaken for that whiny little bitch? How some one like that ended up with Leah is a mother fucking mystery."

That got Swan's attention. "I don't know about that." She looked up at him, brown eyes wide with curiosity. "Imprinting is all about complimenting the other, right? After Sam, Leah needed someone faithful, someone honest and loyal and kind-"

Paul clucked his tongue. "No waxing poetic about Jake when you're in bed with me, birdie."

Swan snorted. "Alright. Anyway. That's what Leah needed. But Jake...I think Jake needed someone who would always push him for more. Push him to do more, be more, better, stronger, whatever. And Leah will do that. Leah won't ever let him hold back. She's not the type."

"Not at all. She wouldn't take any of his Baby Alpha whiny crap." He closed his eyes, and relaxed against the bed. "After that went down, the whole imprinting thing, Leah told me who ever I'd imprint on, she'd be a real piece of work to put up with my personal brand of bull shit." He snorted, but his wolf snarled again, digging it's proverbial claws deep in his chest. He shook it off. "She's probably hoping I imprint on someone I can't have. Or someone who doesn't want me. It's happened a few times in the past, I guess. To those who embraced their inner wolf a bit too much. the ones who burned too hot. Like me."

When Paul opened his eyes again, he found Swan staring down at him with an almost devastated look. "You keep saying that." She frowned at him. "I've never seen you lose it. Except for that first time, with Jake. But since then, I've never even seen you mad. Not really."

But Swan didn't know about all the times his wolf had got him in trouble. And all the times he'd gotten himself in trouble. He didn't think he was a bad person, not really. But...he did what had to be done, sometimes without much consideration for the consequences. Paul was quick to anger, was quick to fire.

Shoot first, ask questions _never_.

Bur Swan never saw that. "Maybe I'm just not like that with you."

She flushed, and...so did Paul. "If...if you do imprint, I think she'll be perfect for you. Someone strong. Fierce, no..._fiery_. She'd have to burn hot too." He watched her come to some sort of resolution, mouth pulling into a tight line as she nodded almost to herself. Her eyes sparkled when she looked at him, words tumbling out with the ferocity of a woman who absolutely knew she spoke the truth. "You don't need an opposite. You don't need someone to level you. You need someone to fight right along side you."

If there was an appropriate response to that, Paul didn't have it. All he had was his wolf, tearing a fucking hole through his heart. Suddenly, he felt hot -hotter- all over, skin tingling with her words and his wolf's rumble. They hadn't talked about that kiss, they hadn't talked about a lot of things, but it didn't stop Paul from pulling her down for another.

She flailed, but he sort of expected that. He slipped his hand into her hair, but didn't hold her still. The kiss was long, but dry. Her lips were cold against his, an odd sensation not wholly unpleasant. He opened his eyes before her, and watched as she drew back.

He'd pulled her half way across his chest, and she didn't struggle to move away. "You keep doing that," she mumbled. "You're going to give me ideas."

"Good ideas?" Paul didn't let her answer. "I shouldn't. You know, because we shouldn't. But...Like I said, when I like you Swan, I really like you. There's just...a lot to like," he finished, lamely.

Hesitantly, as if expecting him to push her away, Swan laid her head on his chest, curly hair tucked up under his chin. "Why do you call me Swan? Not that I mind."

"You're Jacob's Bell's. You're everyone's Bella." _But__you__'__re__my__Swan__. __Mine__._ Paul shoved that thought away with no little horror. What the hell was wrong with him. "But to me, you're Swan. You're Birdie. That's what you reminded me of. A bird afraid to fly."

Swan huffed against his chest. "So you took it upon yourself to push me out of the nest?"

"Something like that." With hesitance not unlike her own, Paul ran his fingers down her hair. This was cuddling. Not the post-sick heat-hug they'd done before. Not the exhausted sleep they'd fallen into. Not even the awkward couch thing they'd done when Jared and Kim had come over. It wasn't horrible, and her weight was weirdly comforting. Even though she felt fragile, like she really was made of hallow bird bones, Paul liked her there, tucked up on his chest.

_Protect_, the wolf said. _Protect__what__'__s__yours__._

"I'm going to have to have a like...really long talk with my wolf," Paul said aloud. "But uh...he likes you."

"Well, there's so much to like," she teased. "What _d_o you like about me?"

It was possibly the most ridiculous and girlish thing Paul had ever heard from her. "Fishing for compliments, birdie?"

"No just...well," she stammered, freezing up against him. "Never mine, that was stupid. I'm sorry."

Paul petted her again. There wasn't any other way to explain the hair-stroking thing. "I'll tell you what I like if you tell me what's freaking you out?"

"I'm not insecure," she said, a contradiction everything he knew about her. "I've never worried if people liked me, or if I was pretty enough, or smart enough, or good enough. Never. Until Edward. You know, because I mean they're all so beautiful. He was so beautiful. And graceful and intelligent and...and I use to wonder, a lot, why he liked me. And he told me and...and it's always bothered me."

She looked up, boney chin digging into his collar bone. "Well, what did he like?"

"He liked that he couldn't read my mind," she said frankly. "He liked how I smelled."

And for once, Paul felt angry at the Cullen's for more reasons than simply being leeches, and fucking with humans. "You're funny. Did he know that? I bet he didn't. You just...slip ridiculous shit in, and no one catches it, but I do. You're funny. You get shit done. Ain't no one going to appreciate that more than me. You don't even care if it hurts you, as long as it'll help. Talking about them, spilling their secrets...you did it, didn't even blink. You saw a problem, you saw a solution, you went for it. You seem to take a great amount of enjoyment in yelling at Jake-

She slapped his chest. "I do not!"

Paul poked her in the shoulder. "Not even a little?"

He felt her smile against him. "Well, only when he deserves it. he can be a whiny little bitch sometimes."

Paul sighed. His wolf was too comfortable. He was too comfortable. Swan was _too_comfortable. "When we get back...when everything is done...we shouldn't do this for a while."

She turned so her face was smashed against his chest, words muffled in his shirt. She breathed him in. "I know."

"Because you...you can't make attachments yet," he reminded her, firmly. "Not yet."

She nodded, but her fingers curled more tightly into his arm."I won't."

Paul nodded too. "Because you need to focus on getting better for yourself. On supporting yourself. You can't...you can't get attached Swan."

"I know." She didn't look at him. "I won't."

But...but maybe it didn't matter because all the times Paul had reminded himself that Swan couldn't get attached, he'd forgot to tell himself the same thing.

"Okay. Good." He swallowed. "I'll still be there. But the pack. Just...And Emily and Kim." Nothing was coming out right, sentences fragmenting right off his tongue. "Just...don't-"

"I won't." Swan lifted her head, and licked her lips. "I promise."

But Paul already knew Swan was a liar.

"Good."

He just hadn't realized he was one too.

The call came at the early hour of five A.M. Paul reached for his phone blearily, only to find that it wasn't a call at all, but a text.

_Phase__now__. __Plans__fucked__. - _Jared_. _

He'd called Jared before he even realized his fingers were pushing buttons. "What the fuck?"

'Get back here as fast as you can. She took the bait but noticed we were one wolf short. She's hunting you, dude. Called you the guard dog. Said you were always there.'

He was up and out of bed in an instant, prying open the bedroom window. Frigid early spring air bit at his skin, as he leaped wordlessly from the second story. His feet slipped against the muddy earth, as he rounded the side of the house for the back yard, where it met the tree line. The forest behind his father's house was barely that, just a weedy expanse of thin trees, but it would have to do.

Swan met him on the back porch. "I have to go," he said in a rush, already shaking from head to toe. The feral shot of anger, at the promise of a leech,, had him breathless and ready to run. "She followed the scent they laid right into the trap, but then she noticed I was gone and...and she went for my scent. She knows you're with me. She's been watching us. She's been-"

"Go, go!" Swan pushed him toward the porch steps, but not before pulling his car keys out of his back pocket. "I'll follow behind you-"

Paul choked, freezing mid-phase. "Birdie, you can't-"

She stared at him. "Do you really want a vampire anywhere near your little brother? That's how it starts. All it takes is one vampire,-"

"He's young! He's a baby! It won't affect him." Except, Paul wasn't sure it wouldn't. He couldn't know that it would have no adverse effects. "Swan..."

"Go. Cut her off. I'll follow." Her voice left no room for argument, and she pushed him again. "She's...sneaky, wily, something. She's gotten past your pack before. I can't stay here. If she's looking for you and expecting to find me, I can't stay here. She'll follow your scent right to this porch, and then what? Then what, Paul? You go, and I go."

He pulled her into a hug, taking one quick moment to bury his face in her sleep warm neck. "Don't follow too close."

She shoved him away. "Whatever. I'll be right behind you."

He phased without bothering to undress, trusting that Swan would gather the remains of his clothing. If he hadn't looked back one last time, he wouldn't have seen his father standing there, or the cup of coffee smashing against to the cement of the walk patch.

"Go!" Swan cried out, waving him off. "I'll explain everything. Just go."

'_Chances are he already knows,' _Sam put in. _'He'd have heard the stories as a kid. His grandfather would have told them.' _

'_Stories are one thing,' _Paul replied, tearing off into the forest. _'How far has she gotten?'_

'_We've been chasing her for a half hour,' _Jake growled, nose to the ground. '_You should have phased sooner.'_

'_Not the time,' _Sam snapped._ 'She's probably lost your trail on the 101, but she's still headed north. At this point, I think she's just running. Jared and Quil took right, and I have Seth and Leah on left. Jake, Embry and I are split between the middle. We can close her in.' _

'_That's not her MO though,' _Embry cut in. His mind was, as it always was, a steady stream of calm, but Paul could feel and odd curiosity burning at the edges. '_She's always been for the chase.' _

Paul froze and then snarled._'__You're leading her right to us! Pull back! ' _To his credit, Sam did. Paul could feel as his pack pulled close, turning in-land and away from Hoquaim._'__What about Swan?'_

Jake snarled. _'__She needs to get out of here, she needs to stay away and let us-' _

'_It's too late for that. They've mixed scents-' _

'_Try to make it sound so dirty there, Sam,' _Jared snorted._ 'What was it that Bella said? Vampires fixate? Why not do this police escort style? Stick Miss Swan in the middle and we flank. Make her crank the heat and open the windows. Get her scent going. Leech won't be able to do anything but follow, and we take her."_

_'Bait,'_Jake spat. _'You want to use Swan as bait.'_

Sam spoke calmly, as he addressed the pack._ 'She's bait either way, Jake. The leech is looking for Paul's scent. Their scents are mixed. If she finds the one, she can find the other. If we do this as Jared suggested, we have the benefit of knowing exactly where Swan is. With the way the leech's jerked us around in the past, it's better we know where Swan is, in case it gets away.' _Like the bitch usually did.

_'I don't like it,' __P_aul snapped, even as he pulled toward the road, to cut Swan off. But then, Sam had a point. It was like Swan said; the leech was wily, and prone to escaping. And in the end, for a trap to work, you had to know where you laid the bait.

If anyone was going to go putting Swan on the mouse trap, it was going to be Paul. Honestly, he didn't trust anyone else to do the job.

Paul heard the grinding whine of the Kia's engine, and cut to the road. He'd just barely caught her before she could leave the quiet, empty roads that cut through the woods outside his fathers tiny suburb. The tires screeched to a stop as Swan slammed the breaks. Paul phased so close enough to the car, his snout grazed the bumper.

He barely missed being hit with the drivers side door as she swung it open. Behind her, Paul's father clamored out of the car, soaked in coffee and fear. "He knows everything," she said in a rush, cheeks burning red. "Everything."

"Cover your junk kid, damn." His father gave him a pointed look down, as Swan stared steadfastly upward.

"Right. Um." Paul covered his _junk_with one hand and ignored his fathers penetrating stare. "The leech's been watching us. She noticed when I was missing from the pack and started tracking my scent. We've spent enough time together that our scents are mixed." He didn't miss his fathers amused smile. "If she can track the one, she can track the other. She's headed this way now. So I need a favor."

Swan's mouth pulled into a hard, determined line. "What do you need me to do?"

"She did just what you said she would, with the fake trail the laid. She followed it without question. But..." He'd only caught glimpses of it in Sam's mind. "My scent was on your sheets. And your hair. When she noticed I was missing, she put it together and went in search for me. So we need to get her back on your trail. Drop the windows and crank the heat."

"I'm the bait?"

Paul winced. "Only if you want to be. I'm not really okay with the idea, and neither is Jake. But...with the way the leech's twisted us up before, it's probably safer if we have a visual on you at all times. We'll flank the car, and cut her off before she can touch you. You know we'd-"

"Of course I know! You'd never let me be hurt. But...well. I have a better idea."

Cutting Swan open with box cutter while his father watched wasn't anything Paul wanted to do again. "It's gotta be deep," Swan said, through gritted teeth. She held her shirt up, exposing a convex strip of pale belly. "It's got to be a lot. My scent has to outweigh yours."

Paul's hand faltered where he held the knife just over her left hip bone. "I don't know if I can do this."

"You did it before!" Swan stared at him expectantly. "It's fine. I'm asking."

"This isn't the same. That was barely anything. What you're asking me to do-"

She grabbed the box cutter out of his hand and pushed him away. "I'm not asking you to bleed me dry. Just...we need enough." Without warning, she _stabbed_ the box cutter into the soft side of her stomach, and dragged it across. Paul heard the skin split and tear, and felt his stomach roll. "That was sharper than I thought it would be," she panted, pressing her bare hand over the wound. Blood oozed between her fingers, and Paul froze. "Oh god. Way sharper."

"Brand new blade. I suppose I should have warned you but I wasn't expecting that." His father took off his light blue button up, and pressed it into Swan's bleeding side. "I didn't like that shirt anyway," he told her, with a calming smile. Paul might have believed it, if his father didn't absolutely reek of _panic_. "You alright?"

Paul bristled. "No, I'm not alright-"

His dad snorted. "I was asking Bella, actually. Buck up, son. You really going to get a little squeamish over a little blood? You kill cold ones, if what this one had to say is true."

"And with that, I might puke," Swan announced, swaying forward.

Paul caught her at the elbow, and held her up. She grabbed him with her bloody hand, curving her palm over his forearm. "You're so stupid, God. I wasn't asking you to gut yourself-"

"It's half an inch deep, if that." She looked down at where Paul's father was still holding the shirt against her side, the light-blue fabric soaked in a deep read now. Paling, she looked away. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing," Paul snapped. _You__'__re__not__nothing_. "You didn't have to. We could have did this without a goddamn blood offering." It scared him, how willing she was to bleed for the cause. "We're trying to keep you safe. No one wins if you get hurt anyway. You've...you've got to stop throwing yourself into danger like this. You have to stop, Swan."

"This isn't' like that. This isn't for _him_." Swan was unrepentant. "You said you liked that I got shit done. Well, I want this _done_. I want her gone. I want to be a normal human girl, without supernatural emotional baggage."

His dad coughed. "Or you know, as normal as a girl can get when she's dating a werewolf."

"We're not dating." Paul frowned, letting his ears adjust against the back-drop of nature. The longer they lingered, the closer she'd get. The dark morning sky was tinged orange by the slow rising sun. Everything smelled like rain and dirt and most prominently, Swan's blood.

"Not dating yet." His father clearly wasn't buying it. "She's the first girl you've ever let me meet."

"Yeah, because of your similar histories." Paul squirmed when his father continued to stare.

"Your scents are mixed. If that means what I think it means-"

"It doesn't." Swan looked just as uncomfortable as Paul. "This isn't really the time for that talk."

"You two should for sure talk though. But don't rush it. She's not really in the place to be dating anyone, Paul." The judgmental tone of his fathers voice was hard to miss. "She needs to find her own way, first."

"Uh, yeah. Again with the we're not dating thing. I'm pretty sure I said that." He did his best to convey how badly he wanted his father to shut up by expression alone, but clearly failed. His father wasn't' finished.

"I'm just saying; it's easy to replace one addiction with another. She was reliant on...well, the uh...vampire." His dad made a face at the word. "It wouldn't be hard for her to transfer that to you."

"I know that," Paul snapped, glaring. "She knows that too."

Swan took that as her opportunity to speak. "This really isn't the time. Just...I'm doing this alright? I want her gone, and I'm going to do everything I can to make that happen. I'll never get better with her lurking around. I'll always feel five seconds from falling apart."

His father pulled the shirt back, revealing a gaping wound three inches long. Swan hadn't pulled any punches, that was for sure. The cut would need stitches, if the sluggish trickle of blood continuing to trickle at the edges was to be trusted.

"We're not done," Paul told her, as he took the shirt. "Just...go. Don't stop, even if you see her. Especially if you see her, got it?" He reached into the open car door and yanked the keys out of the ignition. "You know what? You're not even driving." He tossed the keys to his father. "Don't stop for nothing."

**A****/****N** DUN DUN DUN. So a lot of things went down in this chapter. But bigger shit to come! Also, I didn't leave the baby home alone. Promise. Also, there is totally a reason, that even though Swan seemed totally level headed, Paul didn't imprint. So bare with me.

Also, I know that some of you asked for the Play-By-Play of the previous pattern, but I didn't get a chance to send it out to many of you. So if you still want it, I wasn't blowing you off, just shoot me your email again. Or hit me up at lifelesslyndsey gmail dot com.


	14. In Crisis, we evolve

_**cri·sis**_/ˈkrīsis/ _noun_ – a time of intense difficulty, trouble, or danger. A time when a difficult or important decision must be made.

Paul's feet were glued to the cold pavement until he lost sight of the car, when it turned the curve. He shifted with the wind, tearing toward the treeline, and threw the forest, the rumbling sound of his cars engine never quite out of range. So long as he could hear it, he'd know where Swan was. ****

Jake, Sam and Jared met him near the halfway mark between La Push and Hoquaim. The scent of leech was thick on their fur, and staining the air. **'**_Who got a bite?'_He could tell Embry, Leah and Quill were running a circuit father a head, and took comfort in the knowledge that they'd already be tailing the car. Leah's rumbled in agreement, flashing him a quick image of the familiar rear-right fender of the Kia. She was right on it's ass.****

**'**_Me'_, Jacob snapped, baring blood stained teeth. Paul caught a whirlwind memory as it tore through Jake's mind, fresh and new. ****

_**'**__I remember you, little puppy,' _the vampire had breathed with her baby-doll voice, dancing around Jake like a ballerina. _'You who laid by the little girl's side. You who held her hand when she cried. It use to be you who looked at her like that, who loved her like that. But there's another now, not just a little puppy. Where's the guard dog? Where is he?'_

How long had the bitch been watching them, without their knowledge? How long had she been watching Paul and Swan, without him ever catching a scent?****

Paul looked away, to where the rest of the pack were falling in formation, even as they ran. He was taking his place in the back when Jacob cut him off. _'You're heading with Sam and I,'_ he said, with a snarl in his voice that brokered no argument. _'She'll go after you first, with the way you smell like Bells.' _****

The accusation was there, but there was hardly an use in denying truth was there, in his mind, fresh and embarrassing. _Not yet,_ he had said, but it was a promise wasn't it? No had become not now; it was only a matter of when. Not that it mattered what the Baby Alpha thought, as far as Paul was concerned. Swan wasn't Jake's to covet any more. ****

_**'**__I swear to God Paul, if you -' _****

_**'**__If I what?'_ Paul cut him off. He expected the hot rush of rage to come with the question, the usual bitter-burn of his temper. But it never came. Instead, he felt only curiosity. _'What do you think I'm going to do to her?' _****

But Paul knew. Jake didn't have to show him, in a flood of risque imagery, what he feared for his little Bells. _'She's not like your usual girls,' _Jacob snapped, the nose low to the ground as he tore through the trees. He'd taken lead of the Pack. ****

Paul didn't reply, just kept himself to Sam's right as they scoured the land. He had a feeling the game wasn't about them finding the vampire. It was about her finding them. ****

Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed with no sign or scent of the leech. Time was different on all four paws. Paul heard the engine cut with a grinding crunch, half a mile north, and let loose a terrible howl. ****

_**'**__Half pack, cut across, take the coastline. Don't let that bitch hit the water,' _Jake barked out, sending, Embry, Quil and Leah toward the water. Paul, Sam and Jake took to the tree line, their claws scoring nails through the soft dirt as the raced toward the car. ****

It was parked in the middle of the road, though Paul thought the word _parked_ wasn't particularly the most fitting.. The front of the car looked as though it had hit a tree, though considering it's location dead center of the road, it was obvious it hadn't. It took Paul a moment to put it together. ****

They'd hit the vampire. The bitch had been waiting.****

His father was passed out in the front seat of the car, pillowed by the half-deflated airbag. His heart beat steady, but Paul still worried. _'He's okay,'_ Embry assured him._ 'I already checked. But Bella-' _****

**"**Looking for your rag-doll, guard dog?" The vampire cooed, from a tree above them. The wind whipped hard through the branches, stealing away her decrepit scent. No wonder they'd lost her trail. She'd kept herself down wind. She'd back-tracked off their trail, and cut around. She was sly, that leech, he'd give her that. "Or should I say, chew toy?" She snapped her teeth playfully, and tipped her red eyes upward, higher in the three, where the branches turned thin, and bendy. ****

And there, gripping tight the sap-sticky branches, was Swan. Paul would never make it to her before the leech, and if she tried to jump...

There were too many outcomes. The leech could catch her first. She could hit a branch, bust her brain open, snap her spine. Paul might _not _catch her...

The wolves circled the tree, mouths turned up with snarls and growls. Jacob was still as a statue though, poised to pounce. '_Don't_,' Paul warned. '_She's too close to Swan.' _

'You don't think I know that?' Jacob snapped, shoulders pulling tighter.

**"**Is that what you are, little girl? Chew toy to not one set of monsters, but another?" The vampire flitted up the branches, dancing around as if she were on the ground. The tree swayed and jerked, but Swan held fast. "What would your mate think, to see you in bed with mutts?" ****

Before Paul could correct the bitch with a bite, Birdie beat him too it. "Edward wasn't my mate," she snapped, glaring down at the leech. "James knew that." ****

Paul frowned at that. Who was James? He scowled, and phased back into his wolf, taking up vigil beside Jake.

The leech hissed. "Don't you dare speak of him. Don't you dare."

"He tried to kill me; I'll speak of him however I want," Swan reeled back, with a new fire in her eyes. _Death is your motivator,_ Paul remembered saying. This was Bella Swan in her element; surviving. "He bit me. Did he bite you, Victoria? Can you say the same? Were you one of his?" Leaning hard on the flimsy tree-trunk, Swan tugged the sleeve of her thin shirt back, to reveal the crescent scar on her wrist. "Do you wear him like I do? He wanted to make me one of you, did you know that? He wanted to keep me."

Victoria scowled. "I was made in the wars," she tossed out, and though Paul didn't understand the reference, it was clear Swan did, when she gasped. "You've proven so hard to kill, little Bella. I thought I might have to rear a little army of my own." She smiled sweetly, reaching up to pluck at one of Swan's shoelaces. "But it seems that won't be necessary."

**"**Edward wasn't my mate," Swan snapped again. The vampire's cold, cruel face turned curious. "You know he isn't. He left me for the wolves." ****

The leech made a face, and waved her off. "He'll mourn your death none the less. He coveted you greatly; I saw it."****

To Paul's surprise, and horror, Swan took a careful step down on the branch, closer to the vampire. If her face wasn't set in a hard, determined line, he'd have thought it was the scent, luring her closer. But no; it was something else. "Only to go and find his real mate and be just fine," Swan told her. "Killing me? All you'll have done is stole his singer. Edward wasn't my mate, and James wasn't yours." ****

The leech reeled, rearing up so that she was eye-and-eye with Swan. The tree swayed dangerously. "James was mine." ****

"You were barely a coven," Swan retorted, full of bravado now, as she dropped down another branch, foot slipping on the wet bark. Paul tensed, ready to catch her if she fell. With all the anger roiling in his veins, he'd be quick to phase human.

"You were barely anything. Laurent left to live with vegetarians. Sure, he came back for me at your request, but he was going to kill me himself just for a snack. He didn't even like you enough to even give you that courtesy. James left you to defend yourself against a coven the size of the Cullen's, just to come after me. He didn't care that it was one on however many. He didn't give a shit. And where were you when they were burning him up? Huh? You were hauling ass elsewhere, intent to save your own skin over anyone else. Don't tell me you were mated to James, because that's shit." ****

"He was my world," the vampire said, and the wolves all pulled up short, at the quiver in her voice. It carried, even in the wind, even forty feet up. She leaped upward, shaking the tree as she settled on a branch over Swan. "He was my everything. And he's dead because of you." ****

"That's what I thought. Killing me was never about punishing Edward."Swan looked up at her, and took a step back from where she'd been holding tight to the tree trunk. The branch beneath her dipped dangerously. An ominous creak filled the air, followed by a steady stream of cracks, pops, and snaps. _The branch_. "James is dead because of me. Maybe you should join him." ****

It happened fast. It happened slow. Swan jumped just as the branch broke, hurling herself out of the tree. She brushed against branches as she plummeted down, but the smart girl had known to jump _out_, and not just down. The vampire sprang too,probably on reflex. Though it was clear she quickly recognized her mistake, by the look of horror on her face. But by then, her fate was sealed. The wolves were in motion. Like the bait she was, Swan had lead the leech straight into the mouth of the beast.****

Paul didn't hesitate. He let the pack have the leech, and sprang for Swan. Using another tree for leverage, he pounced and pushed off, phasing back to human-mid leap. When he landed, it was hard, with Swan cradled in his arms. They tumbled with little grace, crashing down on the cold, wet grass. ****

He didn't turn back to the fight. It was clear, by the snarls and the jagged sounds of long-dead, shredding flesh, that they had finally caught her. That Swan had delivered her, at the expense of herself like always. "What if I hadn't caught you? What if I hadn't made it in time?" He lifted himself to his elbows, but kept her pinned down to the ground by the rest of him. "What the hell were you thinking?" ****

She grinned, shaky but brazen. "Knew you'd catch me." A foot landed beside them, and Swan's nostrils flared. She grimaced. "Her blood is everywhere." ****

Paul rolled them farther from the fight, though judging from the spark of flame and the sickly-sweet scent of hot garbage, the fight was mostly over. He rolled until she was splayed out atop of him, and tugged her down until her nose was pressed into his neck. "Just breath. It's over, it's done." ****

*****

It took the whole pack to clean up the mess. It wasn't just a matter of the leech, after all. Embry and Quil pulled his Kia toward a tree, setting a scene for a much simpler car accident. Jake was a mess of blood and fresh pink wounds. "Leah found a deer not far from here. There's enough damage to say you clipped a deer, swerved, and hit the tree. The dead deer will explain the blood."

With Swan practically tucked into his side, Paul pulled on a crumpled pair of pajamas from his trunk. "Good thinking Baby Alpha," he said, without the usual mocking. "Why don't you go help Leah with the deer?" He'd want to be with her, Paul figured, after a fight like that. "We got this from here."****

Sam was examining his father at the front of the car. "I don't believe you're concussed," he announced. "It would probably be better if you weren't here, though. Less questions. I sent Jared a head for a car. He'll take you home." ****

"Home," Paul repeated stupidly, an after shock of adrenalin and fear shooting through him."Dad, where's PJ?" ****

"Relax."Paul Senior snorted. "Linda was getting in just as you left- she was only covering half a shift. I told her I was taking you lot out to breakfast before you headed back. Told her you had to get in early because Sam had a job for you, but that you'd be back to visit just as soon as you could. I think she was buying it, up until that last part." He shot Paul a wink, to take the sting out of the comment. Paul couldn't blame him though; his father wasn't wrong. ****

Jared brought a phone with his car, along with warmer clothes for Swan. She pulled them on behind Paul, while he called the one and only tow-truck in Forks. Most of the pack had disappeared into the woods, after Swan had explained what the leech had meant by building an army. They wouldn't be taking any chances of letting some new blood-hungry baby leech come busting through town.

It was just their luck, that after Jared had taken his father back toward Hoquaim, a police cruiser came tearing down the 101. He pulled to the side of the road, like any good officer would, and Paul swore.

****Paul could see the moment when Charlie Swan realized it wasn't just an accident, but his _daughter_ in an accident. "Bella?" ****

To Paul's surprise, Bella was in her fathers arms in an instant, face pressed into his chest. He hadn't guessed her as the most demonstrative daughter, or Charlie for that matter. And maybe he was right, if the surprised -but also pleased- look on her fathers face was anything to go by. Charlie clutched her tight, and glared at Paul's trashed Kia. "What the hell happened here?" ****

"Herd of deer," Paul replied, trusting Swan to go with it. "Came out of nowhere. Clipped one trying to swerve and it put us in a truck is on it's way." ****

Charlie nodded along as he spoke, but his eyes were hard. "What the hell do you think you were doing with my daughter this far from Forks at five in the goddamn morning? I don't remember anyone telling me-" ****

"Paul was taking me to meet his father, and little brother," Swan cut him off in a rush. "I...I've been meaning to tell you...I just haven't had the chance, and I wasn't sure really...but I've been..." ****

"We're dating," Paul said firmly. They were, he realized, and tried not to twitch. When had that happened? All that talk about waiting, but they hadn't waited at all. They went out to eat, watched movies, cuddled, called each other when they woke up. They were practically gross. "It's fairly new." ****

"Paul," Charlie said, eyebrows crawling up his forehead. "Paul as in...Paul Lahote." ****

Paul blinked, and then flinched. "Um." ****

"Paul as in Paul who is not in fact, Jared White? That Paul?" Charlie continued, voice rising. "Paul as in-" ****

"Dad!" Swan tore herself away, taking a step back, toward Paul. "Stop it." ****

"No, I will not stop it." Charlie closed his eyes, and looked up with a sigh. "I was real' happy to see you getting out Bells. Real happy. You've been eating, you've been sleeping, and apparently you've been lying-" ****

"I lied," Paul cut him off, which maybe wasn't the best thing to do. "I shouldn't have told you I was Jared. But I was worried you wouldn't let me see Bella if I told you who I was, given your history with my own father." He tried, probably in vain, to keep his face from heating. He wasn't embarrassed of his father, not any more, but some shame was hard to shake.****

Charlie's face softened. "You got a little bit of a record of your own," he said lightly, giving Paul a look as if daring him to deny it. "But from what I hear, you're an alright kid." Charlie scratched his chin and then frowned. "Actually, Billy won't shut up about you lately. Guess that makes sense now. He must have known you were getting on with my daughter. Did he know I thought you were Jared?" ****

"Not to my knowledge Chief," Paul said, trying not to squirm. He'd never done a father-talk before, and he wasn't anticipating the chiefs. "And we're uh...we're not getting on. Or anything like that. Like I said, it's...new." ****

"Oh my God Paul," Swan said, looking at him with wide, horrified eyes. "Just...no. No. That is a thing that my dad does not need to hear about." ****

"No," Charlie said, grinning now. "No, that's good. Real good. Now, why don't you two hop in the cruiser and I'll drive you back to town. I can radio the tow-truck and let him know I've got you." ****

"That would be great sir," Paul said. That way, he could stay by Swan's side, should more vampires come to light.

"Alright Bella," Chief Swan said, as they kicked off their shoes by the door of the Swan House. "I want you to go upstairs and grab a shower. Warm up a bit." ****

Swan's eyes flitted between her father and Paul. "I'm fine, really." ****

"Go ahead," Paul told her, not missing the way the Chief's mouth clenched. "Seriously, go on. He just wants to talk to me. I think, all things considered, he deserves that much." Paul was nothing if not pragmatic. He'd lied to the Chief, fulling knowing the truth would come out eventually. He was prepared to accept the consequences. ****

"Dad," Swan said, through her teeth. "Paul has...he's helped me a lot, okay?" ****

The Chief frowned. "I know he has. It's not like I don't have eyes. But, I won't tolerate liars, you got that Bells? Cause' it goes for you too. This isn't...I don't want this to be like the time you ran off to Phoenix and came back in a full body cast."****

"It wasn't...it wasn't that bad." Swan huffed, and headed for the stairs. "This isn't like that, okay? He isn't like Edward." ****

Charlie blinked, surprise splashed across his face, as the mention of the Cullen boy's name. "Apparently not," Charlie agreed, waving her off. "Go on; get warm. We'll be in the kitchen when you're done."

Charlie said nothing as he bustled around the kitchen making coffee. He shoved a steaming cup into Paul's hand, black and bitter, before taking his place at the little square table. "Have a seat, kid."

****Paul managed not to bristle at the word _kid_, but it was hard. He'd grown up fast, and painfully, and for some reason, the word had always grated on his nerves. It didn't help that Swan was upstairs, and he was still coming off his post-hunt high. He just wanted to be with her. ****

"Now," Charlie began, lifting his mug to his mouth. "From what Billy Black tells, you're a good kid. Bit rough around the edges, but always aiming to do the right thing. Now, I'm going to promise you right now son, I won't judge you by your daddy's past. Ain't the right way to do it, is all. You got your own shit-list, and I figure I don't need your daddy's mistakes to make a call on you." ****

Paul never broke eye contact as he picked up his own mug. "You talk like you know my rap sheet by heart." Which was an alarming prospect, actually. ****

Charlie smiled. "Well, call me a sap but you Rez boys are closer to heart than most the little hoodlums I have to deal with. So yeah, maybe I know a bit more about you lot than the average kid I come across. I know you got a temper on you, Mr. Lahote. But I reckon if that temper ever got lost on my daughter, I wouldn't be the first one gunning for your blood." ****

Paul tipped his head forward, conceding to the point. "Jake might be all about Leah these days but he's already laid down the warning. There's probably no point in saying I have no intentions of hurting your daughter, is there?" ****

"Can't hurt." The Chief leaned back in his chair, and leveled Paul with a deeply searching look. "I also know you're...well known with the ladies."****

"I certainly haven't had any complaints," Paul told him, smirking. It was clear what it had cost the Chief to spit the words out; _pride_. But then, pride was a man's main currency, really. "I've never lied about what I've wanted, Chief Swan. Any girl that's been with me, has known exactly what I was after. Your daughter is different." ****

The Chief lifted a brow. "Different as in she doesn't know what you're after?" He set his mug down with a rough clink, coffee sloshing over the side to puddle on the tabletop.****

"I don't know what I'm after." Paul wasn't sure there was a better reply. "I like your daughter, Chief Swan. I...care about her. I worry about her. She's not just a pretty face, not just a body. She means more to me."

"She means the _world_ to me." Chief Swan stared him down, solemnly. "This has been a hard year. She's...what that boy... I don't understand it, alright? I don't know what he did, but you gotta realize I've feared the worse. Leaving her out in the woods like that. The things he could have done. I wake up some nights thinking did he...rape her, or...or." Charlie cleared his throat. "I asked, and she said no. But sometimes I wonder and I don't know what to do and I..."

He cleared his throat again, and shook his head. "But Bella...she fell so hard. So fast. And he hurt her. I'm not sure she could handle another heartbreak like that; I'm not sure I can handle seeing her try. I'm not saying back off. I'm not saying you go into this, you go into it for good. What I'm saying is...don't lie to her. Don't lie to her like you did to me. Let her know who you really are. Don't blindside her like he did."

"She knows me better than most I think. She..Swan. Bella. She's seen me be a total shit. She's put up with me being a dick. She's...maybe made me less of one. To her anyway. I can't say I won't fuck up because I'm trying not to lie here, but I can honestly tell you the last thing I want to do is lie to her."

Charlie nodded, and swallowed hard. "The way I see it son, is that you've been good for her. Ripping you away just because I don't like you, or what you might do, wouldn't do me no favors with her. Whatever you're doing, and I'm not sure I want to know, it's been good for her. Better, maybe than even Jacob. The kid had his heart in the right place, but...Bells wasn't ready. Boy was head over heels. I was maybe a little relieved when Leah turned his head, as much as it hurt Swan. But you fixed that, didn't you?"

Paul looked out the window. "It wasn't' my intention to like her as much as I do. I didn't at first, I don't' know if you knew that. I didn't like her at all."

Charlie laughed at him. "You sure did like to fuss with her when you were a little shit. Pouring mud down her shorts, stomping on her sand castles. I've got two words for you son; pulling pigtails. Don't think I've forgotten that. In fact, it's probably what kept me from kicking your ass for lying, I think. I remember you."

Paul scowled. "You said you wouldn't judge me on that."

"Not for your dads past, though I've heard he's doing alright for himself now. No, I think I'll judge you all I want on your own past, bullshit included. But don't think I don't remember the way you protected your family too, PJ. You slammed the door of my patrol car on my hand that first night I took your father in for lock-up. You must have been only six or seven at the time."

"I don't remember that." Although, now that he thought about it...he remembered his mother hauling him off, and handing him over to Aunt Jeanie "I did that?"

Charlie lifted his hand, and wiggled his crooked pinky finger. "Sure did. Broke my knuckle and everything. I figure, if a kid that little can fight that hard for his family, then having you care about my daughter might not be a bad thing. I think I'm right to trust you. I think we can find a few things to agree on, anyway, when it comes to Bella."

Paul tried not to smile at that, and failed. "Some days, I sort of wish that Cullen kid would come back just so I could punch him in the dick."

Charlie snorted into his coffee. "You and me both, kid."

**A/N** Bondy, bondy, bonding.

**A/N** During the last chapter, I made a note that the baby wasn't left alone and someone commented that it was stupid to put such vital information in an AN. They went on to say that if Authors put vital information in A/N's in books, they'd never get published. Which is totally true.

The key difference here is that a book arrives to you finished. This is an on-going piece. You just have to accept that you won't always have all the information. It's a kindness that I offer any in the AN. I could leave y'all hangin'!


	15. Give thee, our resigned blessing

**Caught** – _verb_ ; intercept and hold [something].

When Swan finally joined them, Charlie wasted no time sending Paul to the living room. "Bella and I have to have a little father-daughter chat. You understand, I'm sure." ****

"Of course." He went without a fight, but not before flashing Swan a wide smirk. It was her turn in the hot-seat, after all. "Go easy on him, Birdie." ****

Swan blinked at him, as he slipped past her, toward the living room. He could hear them settling down at the table, even as he settled down into the couch. ****

"Not really sure where to begin Bells," Charlie said, with a gruff sigh. "So why don't you start? How'd you get tangled up with Lahote?" ****

Swan cleared her throat. "That night, at Harry's funeral. He um...found me, out on Sue's porch. We talked. He kind of...called me a brat, told me I was being selfish, acting like the whole world had ended just because Jacob got a girlfriend. Told me I was selfish, acting like I was the only person in the world to have lost someone and I...well I got mad. But...but he was right. And I...well. That's where it started, I guess." ****

"Boy does have a smart mouth on him, don't he?" Charlie chuckled. "So how'd you go from that to this? Selfish brat to...boyfriend and girlfriend?" ****

"Oh my God Dad...just..." She snorted. "It's new. He and I. But I mean...I don't know. God, I don't know. But...well. I don't know. He makes me happy, I guess. Can't that be enough?" ****

Charlie cleared his throat roughly, the same choked sound he'd made when talking about the night Bella had been lost. "Sure kiddo. Just...don't lose yourself in him okay? Don't..."****

"He isn't like Edward." Swan's voice was almost consoling now, as she spoke to her father. Paul imagined she had a lot to say sorry about, though. "I don't...I don't feel like I'm lucky to be with him. I don't...feel like he's better than me. That he could do better. Or well, maybe sometimes. I'm kind of a mess." She spoke softly, though she must have known he could hear. Paul wanted to imagine she was speaking directly to him. "Just...with Edward, I always felt like I wasn't quite enough. Like, how could I compare? And with Paul...with him, I feel like I could be enough. Good enough. He's seen me at my worst and...well. He's still around.

Charlie breathed out a noisy sigh. "Why do I feel like you're talking about more than I could possibly understand? You know you can talk to me, right? You can tell me anything. You can trust me, Bells."

"I trust you dad, I just..." Swan was silent for a long moment. "I think...I think that's what makes Paul so...so easy to be with. I don't have to tell him anything. He gets it anyway. And I...well. I don't know if I'm ready to get into any big thing right now, but I'm hoping he might stick around until I am."

It took more out of him than he'd like to admit, to keep from going to her then. He didn't understand it, the insane urge to assure her he was there for her, for as long as she needed. It didn't make sense, this sudden attachment. Still, Paul had no desire to fight it. He'd never felt more right with any one, than he did with Swan.

The phone rang, a shrill cry in the otherwise quiet house. Charlie picked it up. "Swan Residence."

'_10-78...make that a 10-79. Body on the back-way, out by Ridge Road and Court. It's bad, Chief. Real' bad." '_Paul recognized the tinny voice as Officer Wellstone. He was half Quileute, and not much older than Paul himself. _'Might need to call in Seattle for support. It's looks more like their scene.' _

"Jesus Christ. If I wanted this shit, I'd have _stayed_ in Seattle. Gimme ten." He hung the phone up. "Boys found a body," he said grimly. "This use to be a peaceful little town, you know? You stay in tonight, Bells. Paul is welcome to stay too, but I'd rather him not be up in your room."

"Dad." Swan let loose a long suffering sigh. "He told you. We're not...doing that."

"Yeah well, how long's that gonna last? He's a young man, and you're a pretty girl. I ain't stupid, Bells." Chief Swan left with one last warning, and a firm look in Paul's direction. "Y'all behave now. You have anywhere to be today, Lahote?"

Paul blinked. "Nothing important."

"You might as well hang around then," the Chief told him. "No reason Bella should be all alone." He smelled of fear and resignation. Paul could respect that though; Charlie Swan was his own kind of protector. That he'd trust Paul with his daughter was an honor, really. A blessing. "I'd rather she had someone around should anything come up."

"I...can stay. It's not a problem, sir." He wasn't exactly sure what to do with the Chief's...blessing. It was one thing to accept that he and Swan were seeing each other but another entirely to...trust him, like that. Fathers generally didn't, and with good reason. He'd have to thank Billy, when he got the chance. "I'd prefer it, really."

"I'm sure you would," the Chief said dryly, as he pulled on his jacket. "No funny business."

*********

"You should sleep some more," Paul suggested, catching Swan by the hand. "How are you doing, anyway? I didn't get a chance to ask, with every one fucking about. She had you, didn't she? What...I mean, did it do anything? Did you feel anything?" ****

Swan dropped onto the couch, and tugged Paul down with her. "I didn't want her to take me. I didn't...I fought. Even though I could..." She smiled, self conscious. "She smelled good. And part of me..,kind of wanted to just go with her. Just let her have me, I guess? But I fought it. I think that's why she threw me in the tree. I wouldn't stop struggling."****

He threw his arm over her, and pulled her closer. "Not that I'm ungrateful, but why did she wait for us?" He, like the rest of the pack, had been thinking the very question since they found the bitch in the tree with Swan. ****

Swan squirmed. "She said she was waiting for someone. You, I think. She said, 'and now we wait for him'. I don't know. I guess maybe she just wants someone to hurt as much as she does." She looked away, and fidgeted with the hem of her t-shirt. ****

It took Paul a moment to connect the dots. "She thinks we're together." That he had known, of course. "Why do I matter? I thought her grudge was with the Cullen's? She's always made it sound that way. She talks a lot, when she's being chased." ****

"I did too, at first. A mate for a mate." Swan shrugged. "But I wasn't Edwards mate, and I really don't think she was it for James. She blamed me for his death; she was desperate and crazy. All that talk about being born during the Wars, and the army well...it's terrifying, actually. The Cullens...Jasper. Jasper didn't talk much about his time before the Cullens. But, from what I gather, it was like nothing you and I could ever imagine. The...the vampires I've met, the ones you've killed, they were kittens compared to what Jasper use to be. Who Jasper worked for. And if Victoria was born from that, well...I wouldn't put anything past her." ****

"Hey." Paul captured her chin in his hand, and pulled until she looked at him. "Hey, she's dead now. I heard the howl. They got her. Her ash is all over the forest by now, telling any other vampire strolling through to take a hike because these woods are protected." ****

Even before he finished speaking, two short ripped through the air, not half a mile behind the Swan house. "What?" Swan asked, when he froze. "What is it?"****

She wouldn't have heard, he realized. "They found something." He pushed up off the couch in a rush, hands already shaking. "Shit." ****

Two short howls meant a scent had been found. A new scent. And they were close. He couldn't leave her alone, but he needed to know what was happening. "Phase," Swan said, like she'd plucked the idea right from his head. She pulled the front drapes closed, blanketing the living room in shadows. "There's enough room here." ****

"Stand back a little," Paul ordered, jerking his head toward the stairs. "The wolf doesn't like being in confined spaces. I don't' normally phase indoors, if I don't have too." ****

She did as he asked, sitting herself halfway up the staircase. "You wouldn't hurt me," he heard her whisper, as the change took over. ****

He could feel her brown eyes on him, as all four of his paws hit the shaggy blue carpet. He lowered himself to his belly, and made himself as small as possible. 'What's happening?'****

Sam's voice cracked like a whip. 'Jake and Jared are nearly there. Three scents. And...they're coming your way.' **  
**He reared up, and Swan gasped. 'How close?'****

Sam hesitated. 'Jake and Jared are nearly there,'' he said again. 'Just... The pack is on their way.' ****

He phased back human just long enough to pull Swan toward the kitchen. He couldn't leave her, of course. But...they were here. Paul couldn't hear them, but that didn't mean the world was silent. A shoe scraped against the tree outside Swan's window, a branch snapped, sending birds aflutter. Then, the slow slide of metal and wood; the window had been opened.****

They were here. ****

Paul pulled her close, pressing his mouth to her ear. "Shh," he hushed her. Silently, he held up two fingers. He pointed first up to her room, and then outside. The second one had taken to circling the house, probably waiting for the first sign of blood like a fucking shark. ****

A question remained, however; where was the third?****

Immediately, her heart began to hammer. Paul kissed her quickly, not wanting to alert the leeches. He only hoped the shark would see them, and assume her heart beat for him. ****

_It did,_his wolf growled, stalking beneath his surfaces. Wordlessly, he drummed his fingers against her chest and hoped she understood. By the widening of her eyes, Paul could assume she did. ****

"Your truck working?" He asked casually, tracking the foot steps above him. He knew it wasn't; the chief hadn't had time to see it fixed and Jacob hadn't been around to look at it. "I was thinking we could go back to my place." ****

He grinned when her heart caught at that. "My dad didn't want me leaving," Swan said, with a shake in her voice. Even so, her eyes flitted back to the living room, and the front door.****

Glancing out the back window, he caught sight of a glimmer near the tree line. Rain had began to fall, muffling the sounds from outside. All they could do now was buy time until Jared and Jake showed. They could play it cool. After all, as long as he didn't let on that he had heard them, they had no reason to believe he did. They didn't know _wolves_, or the way they worked. Paul didn't doubt that a vampire would believe themselves too good for a wolf, either. And if they didn't know Paul knew they were there, they wouldn't expect his attack. All he had to do, was get Swan to safety. "Your dad won't be home for hours. What do you say? We go back to my place. Embry's out. it would be just the two of us." ****

Swan took a deep breath, and forced a smile. She didn't smell terribly scared just...anxious. Which, given their ruse, was appropriate. "The keys are by the door. Let me put my shoes on." ****

He pressed his hand against the small of her back as she toed on her shoes and pulled on her coat. The leech upstairs was peering curiously out her bedroom door. Paul could see it's face reflected in the mirror hanging over the door-side table, where Swan snatched her keys from a bowl. ****

It made no move to attack, which meant...ah yes. The other one had rounded the house again. Bare feet on concrete and. the nearly-silent squeak told him what he needed to know; the truck bed. ****

They needed more time. Jared and Jake must have been close. Heedful of the leech upstairs, Paul pushed Swan against the front door, and kissed her hard. She squeaked, not quite in protest, but surprise, before gripping him hard, shaking fingers curling tightly into the stretchy knit fabric. ****

Might as well make it good, he thought. Sliding her hands down her back and over the soft curve of her ass, he hoisted her up, until she wrapped her legs tight around his hips. She kissed him like she was dying for it, and Paul had to fight to not lose himself in it. Focus. ****

The leech upstairs moved, but not forward. Paul thought he heard a laugh, but no... of course not. He heard the distant rumbles of his pack mates, and breathed a sigh of relief. He set her down, and pushed the hair from her face with a dirty grin. "Let's get this show on the road, eh?" ****

Swan swallowed, and nodded, fumbling to turn the knob. The door had only just open when Paul felt it, a warm gust of wind hitting his back. A hand clamped on his shoulder, cold and unyielding. He pushed Swan out onto the porch, and spun with a snarl. ****

"Jasper?" Swan said from behind him, with a gasp. "Jasper...what are you doing here?" ****

Jasper Cullen took a step back, and tipped his head in a mock bow. "We heard there was ah...an infestation, in the area. Thought you could use a hand. And so here we are, at your service."

"Still worth it?" Swan said, soft and hurt.

The leech's mouth twitched downward, a cold frown marring his pale face. "Always."

**A/N** A wild Cullen(s) appears! _PAUL USES SNARK-AND-GLARE. IT IS EFFECTIVE. _


	16. For what?

_**De-fine /di'fin/ - **____Verb__: state or describe exactly the nature, scope, or meaning of [something]._

"Newborns." Paul reached behind him blindly, and pulled Swan closer, keeping himself between she and the leech. Cullen or not, Paul didn't trust him. "How many?" ****

"One left," Cullen told him, with a tight smile. "The family has done their best to round them up with no casualties, but I'm afraid the last one is...a credit to Victoria, I suppose. Very difficult to catch." ****

"The one circling the house?" Paul caught sight of it again, just a pale flash in the otherwise darkened forest. ****

"That would be my wife." He blinked, eyes flitting to Birdie. "She...saw some very concerning things, Bella. We worried, after the clif-" ****

"That was days ago," Birdie snapped. She was shaking, with her face buried into Paul's spine. Breathing him in. "Weeks maybe. I don't even know any more. You can't have been that worried, if you're only showing your faces now." ****

"When we saw that you were well, we thought the most prudent concern would be clearing what newborns were made, from the area. There weren't many, only four or five all total, but the threat was real. And you...seemed to be doing well with this...friend, of yours." ****

"I think you should leave now," Paul found himself saying. ****

Behind him, a new voice chimed, bright and frightened. "Jasper-" ****

And then...and then Birdie was gone, torn from his arms. Paul spun on his feet, lashing out to grab the first thing he could reach. An arm, cold and dead. He wasted no time tearing it from the socket. It let go of Swan as it turned toward him with a snarl. Launching forward, Paul grabbed it's head with his bare hands, and _pulled_. It didn't come easily, but he couldn't phase, not this close to Birdie. Instead, Paul kneed the leech in the chest, and twisted the head from it's neck with a nasty, squelching tear. He dropped the head, kicking it down the stairs and into the muddy grass.

Swan tumbled forward, back into his arms, and Paul clutched her hard enough to bruise. "Get that fucker out of here," he barked at Cullen. "And clean up your fucking mess."

Jasper, with his wife behind him, her wide eyes trained on Swan, cleared his throat. "I can't say I had a hand in this mess."

Paul turned to him, and stared. "This whole fucking mess is your family's fault. Clean it up and get the fuck out."

****He pushed past the leech, and pulled Swan right along with him. "Come on Birdie," he said roughly, growls still pouring out of him, as he shook of the urge to phase. It had been a close thing. "We're going to La Push. He can't get you there." ****

Swan didn't protest as he scooped her up and pushed out the back door. It was a long , cold run in the rain, but the vampires were dead and La Push was calling his name. ****

The house was empty, as he expected. He made a few preliminary phone calls; Billy, Emily, Kim and the Clearwaters. Basically, any parent or imprint in the know. Someone had to spread the news. "Go a head and pull on something dry," he told Swan, leaving her in his room. He grabbed the phone and made one last phone call. ****

"Chief Swan speaking." ****

"Hey Chief," Paul began, with a tired sigh. "I just wanted to let you know that I took Bella to La Push." He heard Charlie begin to argue, but cut him off quickly. "I know you asked her to stay in, which is why I'm calling. Edward Cullen's brother showed up, and...well, I thought it was just best to get Bella out. You know the Cullens don't come around these parts. I sent them off, but I still thought I'd give you a call, to let you know what's up." ****

Charlie was silent for a long moment. "You did the right thing, kid. Thanks for calling. And let me know if those Cullen's give you any trouble. Did they sat Edward was back?" ****

"No," Paul conceded. "But my best guess is that he is. I won't let him get anywhere near Bella, Chief Swan. It's not happening." Paul really hoped Charlie wasn't the type to insist on that closure bullshit, because then they were going to have problems. ****

Charlie snorted. "Glad we're on the same page, kid. Looks like a nasty storm is coming in. As much as I don't like it, I'm not real' sure it'll be safe for driving in the next few hours. Now, I know what Bella said, and I ain't calling you two liars, but I doubt it bares repeating-" ****

"What happens...happens," Paul cut him off again. "And you don't really want to know about it anyway. You're girl's all grown up, and I already promised I'd do my best to never hurt her. So let's call that a done deal and move on. We can be adults about it, yeah?" ****

"You got balls kid," Charlie said with a laugh. "I suppose Bella is growing up. Still don't like it. And you're right; I don't want to know about it. But uh...you all might consider making a trip to the clinic in the near future. I can't stop you, but I'd feel a lot better knowing you weren't being fucking idiots about it." ****

Paul laughed too. "I'm going to send Billy a fruit basket or something. I don't know what he told you about me, but I wasn't expecting you to give in that easy." ****

With an indignant snort, Charlie clucked his tongue. "I ain't giving in, kid. I just know when to pick my battles. Don't call this a blessing, call it a weary resignation. When it comes down to you and that Cullen boy, you're the lesser evil, I suppose, man whoring and criminal record aside." ****

"Thanks, I guess." Blessing or not, Paul felt better not lying to the Chief. He'd have dated Swan regardless, of course. But it didn't hurt that the Chief wasn't making trouble for him. "See you tomorrow, Chief." ****

He found Swan in his room where he'd left her, sitting on the edge of his bed in nothing but her underwear. "This is uh...kind of like deja vu." Except for how it wasn't. Paul couldn't help but follow the map of bruises painting her body, all a fresh molted purple. The cut above her hip had knitted close, though it was framed in an angry shade of pink. ****

"I might even puke in your sink again," she said, with a shaky smile. "I keep...I keep...How many times have I almost died? How many times can I almost die before I'm _dead_?" Swan looked up at them, with clear brown eyes so full of hurt Paul could practically feel it. "I can't live like this. I don't want to die." _I don't want to die any more. _****

He dropped to his knees on the floor before her. "You're safe with me," he told her, tilting her chin until she looked at him. "I mean...I might not be as on top of it as I'd like, but...you're with me, right? I got you back." ****

"You've been save the Swan since I've met you," she said, with a little laugh. "Since I met you again. How'd that end up your job?" ****

"Already told you." Paul wedged himself between her thighs, bold and shameless, until their bellies touched. "I do what needs to be done, Birdie. Protecting. Saving. Kicking ass." Hadn't that been why he'd taken Swan on in the first time? Well, he'd gone into it intending to protect the pack. But Swan had needed saving, and...Paul did what needed to be done. ****

He cupped her jaw, fingers pressing gently at her pulse point. Her heart was like a hummingbird; a steady, rapid rhythm that shamed his own slow beat. "I almost died today," she said again, slow and sure. "I don't want to die." ****

The frantic jump in her pulse confused him. "You're not going to." ****

"No," she said again, as her slender fingers clamped down on his wrist. "You don't get it. I don't want too. I don't...It's like I've been living with this voice in my head that tells me maybe it would be easier if I just died, easier for...for everyone. Maybe it would be better. Maybe it..." She shook her head. "But...today when Victoria had me, it wasn't there. I just wanted to fight, and I did- just like you told me I would. Just like you said I could. You said I was a fighter, that it took nearly dying for me to...to react, and you were right." She gritted her teeth, jaw clenching beneath his palm. " And when that newborn got me, Paul I thought...I really thought I was going to die." ****

Paul had too. He was ashamed the vampire had even gotten the upper hand, distracted as he was by the Cullen. But when he'd seen Swan, wide eyed with silent screams, caught in the arms of that leech...he hadn't even hesitated. ****

The worst was, he couldn't phase. Not that close to Birdie, not with the way the leech had held her like a shield. But it had faltered, when Paul had attacked, more concerned with protecting itself than following through with it's dead master's plans. ****

Paul hadn't known if it would work, when he'd grabbed the leech's head with his bare hands, and pulled. No one, to his knowledge, had ever tried. But that hadn't mattered, in the moment. ****

He snorted._Do or do not, there is no try. _****

Birdie took him by surprised when she kissed him then, cold hands curling over the back of his neck to draw him in. He kissed her back, kissed her like he'd wanted to when he had her pinned in the kitchen. Kissed her like it was his first chance, last chance, only chance to get it right. Paul liked kissing, liked the mess, the fight, the struggle to win when there was no real winner.

Words like _we should wait,_flitted through his head, vague and meaningless. He'd almost lost her today, twice over, and too many times before. Birdie was right; how many times could she nearly die? He struggled to find the moment when he'd started to care, and found he couldn't. Punch-drunk on the taste of her, nothing else mattered than the fact that Birdie had almost _died_.

****Paul pushed her back until she was splayed across the bed, and grinned when she didn't protest. "Not gonna run screaming out of my bed, right? I don't think my ego could take it this time." ****

She scooted herself back, far enough to close her legs shyly at the knees. "I doubt your ego needs any stroking." ****

He leaned against the beds edge, on his knees, and stared down at her. "Not my ego." ****

As he expected, her eyes skittered down to the front of his shorts, where his dick was half hard and wholly interested. She flushed brightly, straight down her chest. "I've...never done this. Anything. You said you didn't. With Virgins." ****

Which answered Paul's question to what, exactly, was being offered. He'd always made it a point to know before diving in, so to speak. No surprises that way, no misscommunication. If Birdie wanted...well. Paul wouldn't turn her down. Paul wanted too. ****

"I think it's safe to assume," he said, more gruffly then he intended, as he eased her knees apart, "that you're special." Mine, the wolf growled, and Paul...didn't mind. ****

"Special," Birdie echoed, trembling as he traced a line up her thigh with a fingertip. "You keep saying that." ****

A plethora of scents hit him at once, the sharp scent of adrenalin, the sweet scent of want, and the faint, but familiar scent of fear. "Never been one to lie, Birdie." He drew his fingers across the edge of her panties, dipping a fingertip into the waist for a brief moment before letting his hands curl over her hips. "Virgin, huh? You smell like a virgin." **  
**She tried to clamp her legs closed again, but Paul held them gently open. "Virgins have a smell?"****

"You smell scared," he whispered, pressing his mouth into her belly. She smelled good, even with the scent of fear. _She smells like prey, she smells like ours,_his wolf growled, purring beneath his skin. We don't have to." ****

"We should wait." She blinked, and swallowed. "Shouldn't we? I mean, we said...that maybe I shouldn't..." ****

As much as it pained him, Paul backed off. He rolled to the left, and stretched himself out beside her. "We can wait."

"You don't want too." Her eyes flickered down to his tented shorts again. She swallowed. "I..."

Shit. Paul wasn't use to feeling like a dick about wanting what he wanted. This was exactly why he didn't fuck around with virgins. He didn't want to be that guy. "Hey, no pressure. Yeah, it's pretty obvious what I want but that doesn't mean you gotta do anything. It just means..." He smirked, taking a long look at her bare body. Bruises aside, Birdie..._oh Birdie_. She'd left the wrong side of thin behind. Her ribs peeked from beneath her skin, but without the painful looking prominence they held before. Her belly was soft, and flat, and her legs went on for miles. Paul was just kind of gone for Bella Swan's legs. "Just means I like what you've got."

She blinked at that, and propped herself up on her elbows. "Really?" She dropped her chin, looking down at her own body. "Really?"

It wasn't' fishing for compliments. Paul knew now that she wasn't that kind of girl. "There's lots to like," he said with a grin. "You gotta know you're a good looking girl, Birdie." Hell, before Jake, before Cullen, Paul had seen those yuppie Forks kids hounding after her on the beach. And the way Jake told it, they hadn't ever quite quit. Swan was a fucking peach. _A cherry. "_I don't get why you sound so surprised when I tell you just much I want to fuck you."

****He expected a blush, or some sort of denial. He didn't expect her to lunge forward, and push him flat on his back. Her hands curled in his shirt once more as she pressed herself tight against him, and he didn't have any choice but to take her by the hips as she all but fucking mounted him right there on his bed. ****

"Woah Birdie," he reeled, pinning her down on his stomach when she wriggled just a bit too wildly. "Jesus Bella-" She pushed back in his grip, knees braced against the bed.****

Swan kissed him, a biting kiss that left his lips stinging. "No one's ever said that to me before." ****

He had to think about what she meant, what it was he had said. "It's not exactly a romantic declaration." He wasn't as good with those. "Is this... is this like a thing? An issue, or something. Is this about him?" ****

Swan paused her careful squirming just long enough to frown. "Maybe. Probably. Yes. Does it matter?" She lifted her hand just long enough to push the hair from her face. The long, wavy curls tickled where they laid across his chest, but Paul figured any squirming done on his part would only act as an encouragement. ****

"Yes." He flipped them, pinning her little body beneath him on the mattress. She was quick to retaliate, wrapping her endless legs up over his hips. _God dammit_. "We talked about this. About waiting. Working out issues. You want to wait. I...want what you want. Tell me what's got your switch flipped, Birdie. You just went hot to cold to hot in ten seconds flat. I just...need to know what's going on in that head of yours." ****

She scowled, mouth pulled into a wet, pink pout. "I don't know how I feel about bringing him into bed with us," she said, with a surprising amount of snark. "Edward never wanted me like this, okay? Said he could ever...he just couldn't. I get why he said no, but a girl can only handle so much rejection before she gets a complex." ****

"He didn't want to fuck you?" And God Damn, that had been up for discussion? That had been a thing that could have happened? Paul didn't like that. It made him want to fuck her more, if only to lay that claim quicker. It wasn't...he shouldn't have wanted it like he did, with the wolf in a frenzy right beneath his skin. But he did. God, he really did. "Wouldn't?" ****

"Didn't trust himself not to hurt me," she said, closing her eyes. "And I get that. I...get it. It was stupid of me to even want, but I always wanted more with him. It was..the addiction I guess. But I still wanted it." ****

"Of course you did," Paul found himself saying. "You're a healthy teenage girl. I'm a man who knows a thing or two about needs, and girls got em' too. Maybe some of it was the vampire hoo-doo bullshit, but don't go beating yourself up about it. You're allowed to want what you want." He frowned. "But I'm not going to do this just because he wouldn't. This was why we said we'd wait before we did...anything. We're kind of putting the cart before the horse here. I don't want to be a stand-in." ****

"As if you'd ever allow that," she scoffed. "And...God. We should wait, shouldn't we?" ****

Yes. No. "Yes. I mean, we should. I..." Goddammit, Paul was not good at this shit. "I don't know how to scale these things. I don't know how to tell if you're ready for a...a..." ****

"Relationship?" Swan laughed, that lighthearted chuckle that bore no weight, no hurt. "If you can't say it, you probably shouldn't be doing it. Maybe I'm not the one ready. Have you ever even been in a relationship?" ****

"Shut up." Paul leaned down, and licked her cheek just to hear her squeal. "You can't say sex. What makes you think you have any business doing _it_?"

"That...seemed like an evasion. Have you really never had a girlfriend?" She cocked her head to the side, and smiled up at him, confused. "Really?"

Really. "Nothing serious. Nothing monogamous. And certainly nothing since I turned." There hadn't been much time, actually. Not that Paul had anything against one-night stands. He preferred his pleasures casual. "Never found a girl worth putting in the effort."

Whatever could have been read into that, Swan didn't say it. "Edward was my first boyfriend, my first relationship. But looking back on it, I'm not sure it really counted. Even if he did love me," she raised her hand to hush him even before he speak. "I know what you think, but believing he did love me a little makes it easier, okay? So let me have that. Anyway, even if he did love me, I can't be sure I ever loved him. I can't trust what I felt, anymore." She shrugged beneath him. "So really, we're both going into this blind, I guess. There's no comparing the two of you anyway."

"I'll never be like him." It was an easy promise to make, all things considered. "I don't play those games. Head games. I'll always say what I'm thinking, so you'll never have to doubt me. And if you do doubt me, you can just ask Jake. He'd never let me lie to you anyway."

"You're the type who only bothers lie when there's no other option," Swan noted, looping an arm around his neck like it was the most normal thing in the world. The way they'd fallen into such casual touching was almost alarming; they didn't, and then they did. "The inconvenience of it isn't worth sparing people the truth. Secrets never last and delaying the inevitable only makes it hurt worse."

Spreading her thighs father apart, he slid further down the mattress, and settled himself down, head resting against her stomach. He wasn't sure Swan was right on this, though for the most part, Paul did prefer to tell the truth. "Still a liar though," he admitted. Because he'd lied to Swan once before. He'd told her his phone was dead when it wasn't. To this day, he still wasn't sure why. "I don't lie to hurt others. When I lie, it's usually because it benefits me to do so."

She scraped her nails across his scalp, and stared down at him with what Paul had decided was her curious frown. Never a good sign, curious women. "Then why did you tell Jake we slept together, when we hadn't?"

He floundered, but only for a moment. "Because pissing Jake off will never not benefit me. I don't know what it is, but his pain...it's like a balm to me." He grinned sharply. "Maybe I just like to cash Jake's reality checks for him. He had no right to go all righteous on you that day, just because he wrongly thought you'd slept with me. It wasn't his business."

"Maybe as my friend it was." Her voice was small, and not for the first time, Paul wondered what losing Jake's friendship had cost her.

"He wasn't being a very good friend." He breathed deeply against her stomach, where the scent of blood still lingered, beneath the soap and rain water. "Not just..with the bitching about what you might have done with me. Before that. He shouldn't have asked you to come to Harry's funeral. Your dad would have understood if you didn't come, I think." But Swan would have come anyway, Paul knew that much. "And even if you planned on coming, Jake still had no place asking. Not so soon after everything went down. Not when you were obviously hurt."

Her mouth pursed, and her brow wrinkled. "You were listening," she said, with wry accusation. "You were listening to Jake and I in Billy's kitchen. You had to have."

"I could have saw it in Jake's mind," Paul reminded her, but there was no sense in lying about this. "But yeah, I was in his shed. I was waiting for you, actually."

Her smile faltered. "You wanted to ask me to stay away." She looked a little sat at that, but her eyes were understanding. "Not come to Harry's funeral, or to the Rez anymore."

"What?" Paul lifted his head from her stomach, dislodging her hand from his hair. "No I...I was going to tell you about Leah. Warn you." At least, he thought so. But then, he'd also been sure that she'd ruin them. That she'd tear at the baby Alpha, like Leah had torn at Sam. They all thought, even Sam at times, that it would have been easier if Leah had left for college, where he wouldn't have to look at her, and feel the loss a thousand times over.

"Are you sure?" She didn't look angry, just curious. "Because I'd been sure, that's what you were going to tell me. I'd been expecting it, from the moment Jake said he imprinted. I thought it would be Sam. But you just drove me home."

"I might be a bad boy, Birdie, but I'm not a bad guy." He laid his head on her chest, and listened to her heart beat. "You were crying, didn't even know it. Driving you home wasn't any hardship."

Her hand returned to his hair, nails tugging through the rain-tangled locks. "You said you were waiting to talk to me, waiting to...warn me about what Sam had threatened, I guess. Why didn't you do it then? You waited."

Paul toyed with the end of one her curls, tracing it over the lacy edge of her black cotton bra. "I might like to pick fights, but I wasn't about to go pouring salt in your wound." That, and the way she'd looked at him had left him haunted. She'd been dead inside that day. Hollow. Rotting.

She gave him a wry look he didn't understand. "You certainly didn't mind giving me your worst at Harry's funeral. I don't know what it is about you, but you have the ability to bring out the absolute worst in me, like no one else ever has. You were kind of a dick."

"I'm always a dick." It was a default reply, usually saved for Jared who called him a dick quite regularly. "I..." There was something about that night, something that put him on edge. "I don't know what had me all fucked up, to be honest. But you handled yourself pretty well."

"I told you I was leaving that night. That you didn't have to worry about Leah 2.0." A smile stretched across her face. "You called me a selfish bitch."

He had, but maybe for his own reasons. He'd remembered being terrified at the prospects of her leaving. But why? He hadn't even liked her much then. "To be fair though, you were."

"As you so thoroughly pointed out," she agreed, rolling her eyes. "You were the first one to ever talk to me like that, after Edward left. You were the first one to ever call me out on being a shitty friend and daughter. You..." She grinned again. "And it pissed me off then, it really did, but I think it was that, if nothing else, that made me trust you. You didn't look at me like I was about to break."

She was wrong though. Paul had been certain she was about to fly to pieces, and it had scared him. "You certainly showed me how broken you weren't. You even called me a pathetic bully. What were your words again? _'__Sam has Emily, and Jacob has Leah, and Jared has Kim and you have no one but your own, sad fuck of a self'_?"

Swan snorted, but she didn't apologize. Paul admired that. "To the selfish bitch and the pathetic bully then," she said, tipping an imaginary drink his way. "Two sad fucks who found each other." When she smiled, it was bright.

"You don't look like you use too," Paul found himself saying, thumbing the corner of her smile as he cupped her jaw. "When I use to look at you, you honestly frightened me. You looked...dead, inside. Dying. Wasting away, not just physically, but...like you were slipping away. I heard you once, in your back yard. You called for the leech."

"You heard me asking for Edward?" She flushed, a bitter, mortified red. "Paul-"

"No," Paul cut her off. "I heard you asking for Victoria. The night Jacob imprinted, after I dropped you off. I'd...I'd taken Jake's patrol in Forks, was hanging low in your back yard. I heard you tell her you wanted to die and..." He frowned. "And I think maybe that's when I realized you needed help. That's when it stopped being about protecting the pack, and became protecting you. Because that's what should have been done in the first place. We should have protected you from all of them." Cullen's included.

"I'd be dead if you hadn't," she said, ducking her chin to avoid his eyes. "If you hadn't decided I was worth the trouble. I'd be dead and we both know it."

"I know no such thing," Paul said, lifting her chin so she'd look at him. "What's the first thing I taught you Birdie? That when it comes to you and dying, you're always going to fight. That's your motivator, remember? So even when you wanted to die, even when you were asking, I think maybe you were just looking for a reason to live."

"Myself." She wasn't asking, which meant Paul's lesson had stuck. "That's the best thing about you Paul. You believe I can. You believe I can fight, that I can win."

"Well fuck, of course I do. Seen you do it enough times after all." Bella Swan, he thought, was always fighting something. "I'm never going to believe otherwise. Any one who doubts you is asking to have his ass kicked."

"Edward Cullen," Swan said, with a new, annoyed inflection, "treated me like I was made of glass. He was so sure I'd get hurt. He was so sure I couldn't do anything by myself. And yeah, I trip, I fall. I'm not particularly coordinated. But, I made I'd made it sixteen years without his help. Who the hell was he to think he could just jump in front of me and take the reigns to my life?"

"No one can live your life but you," Paul agreed, snapping her bra strap. He could smell the heat on her body, heat stolen from him. She smelled like the forest, and it stirred the wolf. "Edward Cullen was a little bitch."

"A little virgin bitch," Swan said, with a smirk to rival Paul's. It looked...well. Paul didn't want to admit it, but it looked _sexy_ on her. A wicked scar on an otherwise pure face. "One hundred and seven, and saving himself for someone that clearly wasn't me."

_What a pity_, he thought snidely. Nipping the soft curve of her hip, Paul slid a hand up her thigh, toward her ribs. "Nothing wrong with your saving yourself."

She caught his hand, when it brushed across her the bone of her hip. "Nothing wrong with spending yourself on the right person either, though."

"Waiting," Paul said, when his thumb caught the elastic band of her panties. "We were waiting."

She spread her thighs a little father, heels digging into the bed. He could feel the damp heat of her pussy against his stomach and wondered when that had happened. But then, Paul had been all but grinding himself down on her, so maybe he shouldn't have been surprise. His body worked on auto-pilot, apparently.

With her hands in his hair, she bit her lip. "Waiting for what?"

**A/N **Honestly, I'm not sure if this will lead to sex. It feels like it could, naturally. But at the same time, are they ready? Guess I'll have to make up my mind by next post!


	17. Ways with Words

mis·take

/məˈstāk/

_**Noun**_

An action or judgment that is misguided or wrong: "coming here was a mistake."

**A/N **This chapter contains content not suitable for persons under the age of eighteen. It contains unsuitable content and not much else. This chapter was separated from the rest of the story for readers who wish to skip such scenes. By doing so, it is possible you may lose part of the story. However, I did my best to keep anything too important out. The next chapter is in the works. My apologies for such a long space of time between updates. December is a crazy month. Hopefully, regular posts should be coming soon (around once a week or so). Thanks you for your patience.

**March 26****th****, Continued.**

Some mistakes were too tempting not to make.

Realistically, Paul knew that sex might not have been the best option for the either of them. Not he, with his relationship issues, nor her with her own bag of crap. But...in that moment, he couldn't remember _why _it was such a terrible idea. He'd have liked to claim he wasn't the type to be lead by his dick, but it was a lie. Swan wasn't saying no, and that was green-light enough for him.

It was awkward, in a gut-clenching sweet way. That in itself only seem to make it more awkward for Paul, who was out of his element where 'sweet' was concerned. Birdie squirmed and blushed and smiled self-consciously, as he tugged her panties down, knees closing up with the instinctive need to keep herself covered. "Want me to flip the lights?" He offered, curling a warm hand beneath her leg.

She snorted rudely, as he settled her thigh over his hip. "You have perfect night vision."

"True." Smoothing his hand over the small swell of her ass, he rocked her forward, slotting their bodies together with a practiced ease. "But I'd do it for you."

"But if you turned off the lights, how would I see you?" She smiled, and traced a finger along his collarbone, and down his arm. "I don't have perfect night vision."

Working his hand back up over his hip, he let his fingers wander, curving down and up the slope of her waist and ribs. "Well, it's not actually about seeing, though that has it's merits." Casually, he moves his hand over her breast, expecting her to jump or squirm. She did, stomach drawing in as she wriggled beside him, blush spreading down her face and chest. It occurred to him that not only was this first time second-basing Bella Swan, he was the _first _to second-base Bella Swan. "It's more about touch."

She glanced down, lashes fluttering. "You want me to touch you?"

He laughed, dick rubbing against her thigh. "I wouldn't hate it, but don't feel obligated. I want to touch you."

Her hands skittered down his side, resting nervously on his hip. It tickled, but he manfully resisted to urge to twitch or squirm. "I don't know what I'm doing. I mean, I get the logistics, I...I know how it _works_. But I keep thinking about how you'll have had better-"

Catching her chin between his fingers, he lifted her chin and made her look at him. "Hey now, there is literally very little you can do wrong when it comes to a hand job, short of trying to break my dick off. But you don't have too. Getting you off will get me off, I assure you. " The idea of those long legs wrapped around his neck made his balls clench up and his stomach hot. Paul..._wanted_, for lack of a better word. "Thinking about going down on you makes me want to come."

He just wanted her. Couldn't peg when the want had crept up on him. Couldn't put a better name to it.

Swan swallowed hard, and flushed an impossibly deeper shade of red. "That's...oddly specific."

"You shaved your pussy; you must have thought about it," he noted. He propped himself up on his forearm, and slipped a hand between them so he could touch the freshly shaven skin. He was surprised to find she'd taken such measures, even though it had been obvious, at least to the two of them, that they were headed this way. "You think about it, Birdie? About me...here." He let his fingers trace the line of her slit, pausing to press against her entrance but not quite push in.

She looked away, heart hammering hard in her chest. Like a humming bird. "I may have done that with you in mind."

Which...God, Paul could barely stand the idea of that. Of Bella Swan getting hot thinking about him. "Do you touch yourself, birdie?"

"I haven't in a long time," she admitted, moving her thigh higher up over his hip, so that their bellies were pressed together. "But I've thought about it. You."

Paul dug his toes into the bed and tried not crawl up her little body, to push up against her, brush the head of his cock against her pussy lips, keep pushing until he was inside of her. A little growl escaped him, and Swan gasped. "Sorry," he said roughly. "God I can't-"

Instantly, the scent of her hesitant arousal was spiked with worry. "What? Am I...I mean, I shouldn't have pushed you...you didn't-"

"I want to fuck you," he snarled, rolling her onto her back. "Believe me when I tell you I want to fuck you. It's driving me crazy; I can smell you. I know you want me. The idea of you touching yourself, of even just thinking of me touching you...Jesus, what are you doing to me?" The idea of touching her, marking her up with fingerprints and scent, Paul was nearly dizzy with it. "What do you think about? What do you want?"

Swan gasped when he pushed her thighs wide apart, and pinned them to the bed, but she didn't struggle. "I just wanted your hands on me," she said, breathily. "In...in me. I just wanted you to touch me like that."

Like that. He pushed, one finger sliding between her lips. He went no further. Not yet. "Here? Like this?"

She swallowed, sucking in a deep breath. "Yes."

Sprawling out beside her, Paul leaned down to distract her with a kiss. He waited for her to open up to him, tentative tongue sliding against his own, as he stroked down her pussy, letting his thumb press against her clit. She gasped, thighs closing around his hand as she kissed him harder, nipping at his lip. Paul brushed his thumb over her clit again, moving in slick little circles. She was just as wet as he had imagined; his sheets would stink of her for days.

Which, now that he thought about it, was a new concept. Paul never brought girls home. He washed any evidence of his conquests away down the shower drain as soon as he could, content to live his pleasure only in the moment. But Swan, he wanted her on him, all over him, with him everywhere.

It made him need it more, need to feel every inch of her with his mouth. Paul pulled away from her mouth to nip at her collar bone. He let his fingers dip deeper, pushing in barely an inch. He didn't press, just reveled in the way her thighs trembled, as he kissed and licked his way down her chest, and belly.

She pulled him back to her mouth, and Paul could accept that. Even as much as he wanted to taste her, he'd take what she was comfortable with. He kissed her, pushing his tongue against hers as he pushed fingers deeper.

From there, it turned frantic. Paul could feel it in the way she shivered, in the way her shivers matched his own. The tentative touch he'd began with was lost to the biting kisses shared between them. He let his hands match the pace her own mouth had set, both losing any lingering hesitance. She kissed him like she was dying for it, like she couldn't get enough. She kissed him hard enough that he could taste blood, hers and his, mixed in mingled between their tongues.

He liked that, their flavors all fucked up and made one. He liked it a lot.

She kissed him like she wanted it to hurt, like she wanted to feel it. And maybe she did. Maybe she liked that sharp edge, knowing that the hurt wouldn't last, that it would fade and leave, and Paul would still be there.

He was beginning to understand the way her head worked. He was beginning to understand. She couldn't have this with him, and once upon a time that would have made Paul scowl because he was no man's consolation prize, now it only made him want to give it to her more.

So he kissed her harder, bit into her lip hard enough to make her gasp. He licked away the sing, drawing her lip between his own and sucking until her back arched and her legs spread father.

Sex was better this way, when forethought was left behind and hands were left to wander with nothing but frantic desires to steer them along. Her hands raced up his back, and her nails scraped down, scoring thin pink lines down his skin. They'd fade, just like all the other little hurts, but Paul would feel it for days, regardless.

When she came, Paul couldn't help but lick his fingers clean, because if he couldn't lick the _bowl_ he'd settle for licking the _spoon_. Her chest was heaving, painted a pretty, sweaty pink. "Can we, will you-"

"Will I what?" He curled his fingers into the blankets beside her head, and tried not to fuck up against her hip.

"Sex," she blurted out, biting her already red, swollen lip. "Can we?"

"Fuck?" Burying his face into the side of her neck, he breathed her in. He wondered if she could feel his heart hammering hard in his own chest, matching her own. "Yeah. Yes. _Shit_." He pushed up, and rolled himself off the bed. "Hold that thought. Condom."

A good boyscout would have had them in the bedside drawer, but Paul never needed them when he was home. He kept a few in his wallet, which was...where? In his pants probably, back at his fathers house. Which was unhelpful. Embry! Embry kept a box in the bathroom. Paul was not above looting it.

He returned, little foil package in hand, to find Swan sitting up on the bed, sheets pooled around her hips. "What's wrong?" He took a deep breath, and tried to pretend that his boner wasn't basically pointing at her like a diving rod. "We can wa-"

"I'm on birth control." She blinked at him, and blushed. "Renee insisted after she met Edward in Phoenix when I...well. She said we were to intense. Whatever. It's one of those weird things they shove up there for like five years. I don't know. But um. You can't get sick, right? Like that. So I figured we didn't...need one." Her eyes flickered to the condom, and back to his face. "Paul?

_Like that. _"I can't even get a cold." Paul said, feeling weirdly breathless. He'd never, not ever, never fucked a girl without a condom, birth control or not. There were a myriad of reasons -STD's, babies, some girls just not being into a cunt full of jizz (which he could respect). Still. "Can I come inside of you?"

Swan made a face, the one where her nose scrunched up and her brow wrinkled. "Why would you come anywhere else?" She flushed. "Or I mean, I know some guys are into _that, _like faces and uh..." She looked down at her bare chest, and he could tell she was fighting not to cross her arms. "Other places. I'm not saying no, I guess. Just..Maybe not this time?"

That was kind of it for Paul.

_And he'd thought she was a prude. _

He played it cool. Or cool enough. "Yeah, no. We don't have to do that today. Another day, totally."

To say that he pounced on her wouldn't be a lie. It felt like phasing, without the claws and fur. He could feel it all over his skin, the rush of want, like a hot-cold lightning-bolt to the stomach that left him panting. If Paul thought he'd felt frantic before it was nothing, _nothing_ compared to this.

Falling back to biting kisses and roaming hands was easy. It was as if Paul had never left the bed. He pushed her back across the bed, digging his toes into the firm mattress for purchase. She way she opened up for him was almost a sin, any ounce of self-consciousness gone as if it had never been. Her hands were still awkward, not unsure but unpracticed, but he liked the way they wandered, never still, never lingering. She pulled at his hair, raking her nails across his scalp, and the kisses never stopped. Kissing grounded them to the moment, if nothing else. Paul had never bothered much with it before, never more than foreplay, but he liked it like this with Birdie. Maybe he just liked the taste of her on him always.

Maybe he was way in over his head.

He gasped against her mouth, and she gasped against his, one breath shared between them. "This is..." He shook his head, feeling like an idiot without a single thing to say, nothing that sounded right anyway. "This is more than I thought it would be."

Birdie didn't say anything, just pulled him back to her mouth like she might lose her nerve if he didn't kiss her. He kissed her once more, quick and sharp, before pressing his forehead to hers. "Breathe."

It was easy then, as she slid her calve up his thigh, and hooked her ankle over his hip. It was easy to brace his knees against the bed, his toes against the foot board. She was hot against him, hot and wet, and he wanted nothing more than to move, to push up and in, so he did. Slowly, he lined himself up, one hand worked tight between their bodies. She buried her face into his neck, thighs clenching around his hips.

With his mouth pressed against her hair, just above her ear, he kept himself still. "Breathe, Birdie."

"I am," she said, through clenched teeth. "Do it. Please. Just...would you-"

She didn't have to beg. "Yeah, yes. Fuck." Propped on his elbow, he used one hand to cup the side of her face, turning her until he could kiss her again.

And then he moved forward, inching in-

"Hello? Paul?"

"Oh mother fucker," Paul hissed, pulling back. Swan hissed, ankles locking around his hip. _Fucking Embry._ "What!?"

Embry hesitated. "Um. Sam's called a meeting. On the borderline. With the-"

With the Cullens. "Yes. Fine. Five minutes."

"Is..." Embry cleared his throat. "Is Bella with you? Sam wanted to talk to her."

Swan let off a choked noise. "Five minutes, Embry."

"Oh my God...I...Right. Five minutes. You know what? Take ten. I'll...let Sam know you'll be there." Embry left with a slam of the door.

Five minutes. Ten minutes. It didn't matter. It wasn't enough time to do all the things he wanted. "I will kill him. _Jesus Christ._" His dick was wet with her, where he'd barely entered her, not even quite an inch-

"That's not really how I expected to lose my virginity," Swan said, beneath him. Almost any scent of her arousal was gone and Paul spared a moment of awe at how easy it was for girls to just...lose the mood. It was not so easy for Paul. "Do you want me too...Um. Since you-"

Which would be awesome but Paul had already told her that this was about her, and not him. Still. He couldn't phase like this. He'd bite someone. "Can I just..." Moving back, he back on his haunches, and took himself into hand. "I just..."

To his surprise, Swan pushed herself up onto her elbows and stared. At his cock. He felt his balls draw up at the sight of her rapt fascination. "Open your mouth."

"What?" She looked up at him, uncertainly. "I don't know-"

"I'm not going to," Paul assured her quickly. Not yet anyway, his wolf agreed. "Your stomach? Please. Just open your mouth. Trust me."

"Of course." Her mouth fell open nervously, only an inch or so. It was enough to see a peek of teeth and a flash of pink tongue.

"Fuck. Yes. Like that." With his other hand, Paul reached out to cup her chin. He pushed his thumb against her lips, and swallowed. "Will you-"

Apparently, he didn't have to ask. Her lips closed around his tongue, and she sucked. Softly at first, the soft hint of teeth biting into his skin. She looked at him while she did it (it killed him, oh god, it killed him), big brown eyes seeking approval, seeking validation. It wasn't healthy, but he wanted to give it to her anyway.

"You can't do anything wrong with that mouth Birdie," he said, gripping his cock harder. His fingers were still a little sticky from his spit and her cunt, against his dick. "Sorry. This...we shouldn't have...this should have been different. Fucking Embry. Fucking Sam. Next time. Next time. I wanted-"

She sucked harder, and he took the hint. _Shut up. _He pressed against her tongue, and nearly came when she moaned, thighs closing up against him where he keeled between her legs. A new rush of arousal stained the air and god Paul could barely stand it. He pressed against her tongue again, pushing his thumb further into her mouth. She took it, teeth scraping over his knuckle.

"_Fuck_."

A/N So yeah. That happened. This chapter is all porn. Sort of. It's pre-porn. It's foreplay porn. So. Merry Christmas.

Also, Never On My Mind was nominated for some awards (Thanks you guys) as was I. So, if you could all be a peach and check that out and vote for your favorites at fandomchoiceawards dot com that would be super!


	18. Choking On Your Own Blood

A/N not beta'd, and super late. Hope you like it, regardless. choke

[chohk] _**verb, **_**choked, chok·ing, **_**noun.**_

_**verb (used with object)**_

**1.**to stop the breath of by squeezing or obstructing the windpipe; strangle; stifle.

**2.**to stop by or as if by strangling or stifling: _The sudden wind choked his words._

**3.**to stop by filling; obstruct; clog: _Grease choked the drain._

**4.**to suppress (a feeling, emotion, etc.) (often followed by _back _ or _down _ ): _I managed to choke back my tears._

Paul waited in the kitchen while Swan dressed. He hadn't asked her if she wanted to tag along, and wasn't so sure he felt about it, regardless of her decision. Sam could suck it; Birdie didn't need to be near those leeches. Paul wasn't a fool; he knew what the summons was about.

The Cullens wanted to talk.

She came out, still smelling faintly of leech and well-water, but mostly of Paul. It was like she'd been bathed in his scent. Showered was probably a better term for it, he thought smugly.

She'd pulled on another one of Kim's donated outfits, something Paul remembered from years before, before the phase, before imprinting, before...all of it. It was still too big for Swan, but Kim was a busty girl. There wasn't anything to be done for it. All Paul could think of was how well he knew what Swan looked like naked now.

He knew what was hiding under those baggy, borrowed clothes."For the record, that didn't count. You're still a virgin."

"But you-"

"Nope." Paul didn't care. That wasn't Bella Swan losing her virginity, and it certainly wasn't Paul taking it. "I wasn't even in. I was almost in, close-" so fucking close, he could practically still feel the heat of her on his dick. "It doesn't count."

Birdie shifted on her feet nervously."Alright, I guess. Whatever you say."

It didn't take an idiot to connect the dots. Rejection was a sour smell. "When we finally _do _get down to business", he told her, assuring her they _would_. That Paul wasn't denying it because he was ashamed, or...or whatever reason she'd gotten in her head. "It will fucking rock, B. I will consider myself a failure if you can still walk when we're done. I'm not calling it a night until I can't even piss straight. So no, as fun as it was, that does not count. That was...no. When we fuck, it'll be better than that."

She snorted, cheeks burning a bright and beautiful red. "Should we..." She tilted her head towards the door, as she toed on her shoes.

Paul didn't bother with shoes. He hadn't even bothered buttoning up his shorts. "Depends. Do you want to come? You don't have to. Sam can eat a dick." Paul wasn't sure why he didn't feel compelled to take her to Sam. He'd never been one to balk at the Alpha's orders when the situation was so serious.

She blinked at him, and worried the sleeve of her sweater between her teeth. "Do you know if he's back? Or is it just Jasper and his wife?"

"No one said otherwise. But..." He shrugged. Swan knew. "It's always a possibility. I could phase and ask."

"It's fine. I'm fine." Paul nodded, and watched her grab a jacket from the peg by the door. It was one of Paul's - a heavy tan Carhartt full of holes and thick with the smell of engine grease and cigarette smoke- something he wore only when it would be weird to do otherwise. "Do you have to phase?"

He _should_, just to catch-up with Sam and maybe gloat about getting Swan's pants off, a little. Just a little. His wolf was itching to phase, regardless, pent up with all the good kinds of tension (victory and sex). But if Swan didn't want him to, he wouldn't. "No."

She deflated, the thick lines of tension holding her shoulders taught falling away as if they'd been cut. "Good. I just...I guess I just want your hands on me. I mean...well no. I mean what I said. I just...need you there. I'm sorry. You make me feel better, like...I don't know. Having you there, I think I can do it."

It might have been the scent thing, Paul was mostly sure of it. "No need to be sorry." It was funny; her sudden clinging need for him had been one of his most prominent worries, but he didn't feel like a replacement part. It felt right for her to need him. "I..." He frowned; Paul didn't like clingy. Except. It didn't feel clingy. "It's not exactly a hardship to put my hands on you B." Paul cleared his throat, and wondered what the hell was wrong with him. Emotional attachment, he realized, was a new and foreign thing to him. He loved his mother, and he loved his pack and _woah_. That wasn't even a basis for comparison really. Not yet. Was it? Of course not. "The clearing isn't far. We can drive to the forest line and walk. Whatever it is, they can wait." He grabbed his keys off the counter, and held the door open for her. "I have the feeling that you're the guest of honor, anyway."

"Yeah." Swan snorted. "I was afraid of that."

They drove to the tree line in silence. Birdie only let go of his hand as they climbed out of the car. He pulled her close as they crossed into the trees, dipping deeper into the forest than she was probably use too. He considered carrying her, but knew that it was better she use these moments to get herself together.

Paul's skin prickled as the scent of leech grew thicker with every step. The only thing that kept his skin from quacking was the smell of pack, overwhelmingly thick and all around him. This was their land, he reminded himself, fingers flexing in Birdies.

You ready?"

"No." Honesty made her lips curl up into a wry smile. "But...I'd rather have this behind me. How many are there?"

He sniffed at the air, and grimaced. "Too many scents to tell. Too many newborns, too many Cullens. I can smell four, two are Jasper and his wife. The other two, I can't be sure." "

"Right." She flashed him a sharp smile, stumbling over a branch. "Edward...you know. He can read minds. At a pretty far distance too, I think."

Devious. Petty. But, a little pettiness was probably healthy for her, at this stage. It was better than the painful, crippling longing she'd filled herself with before. It would serve to take her mind off things; levity went far in dire situations. Paul could be funny, when he wanted too, but he was better at being blunt. "Is that so?" He grinned, helping her over a fallen log. "I don't know if I like him seeing you come all over me, though."

Birdie made an aborted, half-choked noise. "_Paul_." She laughed, breathless and a tiny bit hysterical. Paul considered it a win, as the sour curl in her scent withered a little, replaced with something almost minty. Something just for Paul. _Affection_. Or possibly embarrassment. Embarrass_mint_?"I didn't want you to say it where everyone could hear."

"Oh B." Paul snorted, and pulled her closer. Embarrassment seemed to trump her nerves . "Secrets don't last in the pack. I didn't even bother to wash my hands." But that was mostly for Cullen's benefit. And maybe his own; Paul liked having her on him.

Bella smirked too and...it wasn't what Paul had been expecting. He'd been expecting breakdowns, shaking, crying, something. He wasn't expecting this...this Bella Swan who seemed practically put together. Paul decided that he wouldn't dwell on it; if Swan wasn't freaking out, he shouldn't either.

"I didn't bother to wipe my stomach off."

Which would explain why she smelled more or less like his ballsack, yeah. "Wow, Birdie. That's... Huh. Kind of slutty. I'm impressed."

Embarrassment smelled like limes. The mint was all for him. The combination wasn't unlike a mojito. "_What_? It isn't...I'm not-"

"Nope. It's totally slutty. Slutty B." He swung their hands together, ignoring the weight of too many eyes as they cut through the trees. Swan would notice them soon.

She sputtered, snorting indignantly.. "Well...you would know, wouldn't you!"

Paul barked out a laugh. At least she hadn't been truly offended, as too many girls would. Paul couldn't stand a chick who couldn't take a joke. Swan, when she wanted too, gave as good as she got. "Well, apparently I'm sticking it to one so yeah, I guess I would."

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes and elbowed him in the stomach lightly."Maybe you're just rubbing off on me."

He grinned, and threw an arm over her shoulders. "Certainly smells that way."

Through her glower, Paul could still see her little smile. It had been making an appearance more often in recent days."Dick."

"Geeze girl, we just got out of bed. It's really not the time or place, Birdie."

"Oh my god, why am I even encouraging you?" Even as she spoke, the mint scent exploded. His wolf wanted to _roll _in it.

"You like it."

"If you're done flirting," Sam's voice said, cutting across the thinning wood. "We all have places we'd rather be right now."

Swan tensed, but her steps never faltered. They met the wolves by the water, nothing but a river separating them from the Cullens. Just the two; no Edward. Sam stood before the wolves, naked and human.

Paul pulled her to him, pressing her back flush against his chest. "You good Birdie?"

She leaned back into him, gaze never wavering. Her wide, empty gaze reminded him of the way she use to look; haunted and broken. Paul could hear her grinding her teeth, bitter curls stinging his nose, cutting through all the lime and mint. _Resentment_. "They're not as pretty as I remember."

Sam choked on a snort, but composed himself. If the wagging tails were anything to go by, the wolves were laughing too. "The Cullen's requested your presence. They wanted to be sure you were...safe." The with us went unsaid, but Paul knew. " They refused to continue until they knew for sure that you were okay."

"I'd be better if they left," Swan said, holding Paul's hand against her chest. Her heart hammered in her chest like a humming bird. Whatever tentative strand she'd found herself holding on to, it was fraying now. Paul could smell the rising tide of anxiety on her, and held her closer. "I don't want them here."

For all that she was staring, empty and blank, she didn't speak to them directly. It was lost on no one.

Sam nodded. "Clearly, you're okay.. Sorry we...interrupted."

"You call this okay? Look at her. What have you done to her?" Paul could understand where the little leech was coming from. Swan was still thin and pale, with dark circles heavy beneath her eyes. She looked better than she had in months. Alice stepped forward, freezing only when every wolf began to growl, hackles rising.

"You're very quick to blame us," Sam said, his gaze cold and cruel. "The only thing we're guilty of is not protecting Bella from _you_." When Alice flinched, Paul knew what the little Seer had probably envisioned. Swan, curled up in a ball, catatonic on the forest floor, just like a druggie in withdrawal. The whole Pack remembered it with violent clarity, as if they'd witnessed it with their own eyes. After the incident with the shit under the floorboards, Paul had seen the yellow raincoat in Jared's trashcan. He never did thank him for that.

With a caveman-like urge to haul her up over his shoulder, Paul nudged at Swans back. "Come on Birdie, let's head back to the house before the rain hits. We're done here."

"Wait, Bella. Won't you just talk to us ?" Alice stood in the river, ankle deep in chilly water. Her voice was plaintive, pleading. But there was something else there too, something unnaturally demanding.

Paul snarled, feeling a shiver of loathing quake across his skin. He wouldn't phase, not with Swan this close, but God. He wanted too.

"Paul," Sam began, his voice a careful mix of cautious and supportive. Not a trace of Alpha tenor. "Step awa-"

He shook his head, rolling it over his shoulders until his neck cracked. "No. I'm good. I'm fine. We're leaving now. We never should have come."

Alice darkened eyes shifted back to Bella, the snarl on his lips melting away shamelessly. When she spoke, it was almost patronizing. " Bella, you have to understand-"

"_No_." Swan stepped forward, but Paul didn't let her go far. "No. You don't get to talk to me. You don't get to talk about me. You don't even get to look at me. I _hate _you." Alice flinched, but Swan didn't seem to care. "I can do that now, did you know? I can hate you all like I should. I didn't before. I pined for him, I...I was a mess. A zombie, Alice. Suicidal. I couldn't even be mad like a normal person. Not until Paul, not until the Pack. You don't get to ruin that. I hate you. Every single one of you. You make me sick and if I never see you again, it'll be too soon. I fucking _hate _you."

"That can't be true," Jasper argued, brow furrowed. Paul snarled because fuck Jasper with a goddamn cactus, Swan's was the only opinion that mattered. "I can feel a connection, a longing-"

"An _addiction_," Swan supplied, and Jasper didn't deny it. His face grew pinched, mouth pulling into a grim, thin line. "Like a fucking crack head, you bastard. Can you feel that? Can you? I hate you because a part of me wants to come crawling back, wants to beg you both to say, and it's sick. Standing here, thinking how easy it would be to let you lead me away, it's sick and I hate you for it. You're like an infection, the whole lot of you. Just because you left, it didn't mean you were gone and I just..._I fucking hate you_."

To that, Jasper Cullen had nothing to say. Paul watched him flex his hands, clenching and unclenching them at his sides. He looked inexplicably guilty. But then, he must have been feeling everything Swan did, all that hurt, and desperation. Not to mention the condemnation of the pack, echoing sevenfold. He had every right to feel guilty.

"We didn't know that could happen," Alice Cullen said, staring at Swan.

Her husband frowned, mouth pulling pinched. "I had wondered once why your emotions shifted so dramatically when with Edward. The depths of your...well. It makes sense now. We didn't know. Our kind don't usually take up with humans, and those we do...well, they don't stay humans for long."

"I think..." Alice's face crumpled. "I think Edward might have known. Or suspected. Your reaction to the incident on your birthday Bella...it wasn't normal. We were all worried."

"For good reason," Sam said darkly. He could never shake the broken image of Swan alone in the forest from his mind. It haunted him, and the rest of the pack. "If that's all?"

"We'll gather the rest of the newborns," Jasper announced. "There are only three left, from what Alice has seen, and she's confirmed we'll capture all of them by the end of the week without any further incident. They won't stray near the Reservation, not knowing that their Maker was slain here. We'll let you know when the situation has been dealt with. One week."

"I'll keep Wolves on the border for the remainder of the week," Sam said, clearly doubting the skills. "I would ask also that you take word back to your matriarch. The Cullen Clan is no longer welcome here."

"You're absolving the treaty?" Alice's eyes widened. "We broke no law."

"You endangered my people, both of La Push and Forks, by unwittingly welcoming innumerable vampires into the area and then leaving without so much as a word." Sam never wavered, even when his gaze shifted to Swan. "Bella was right; your presence _is _an infection. Children, barely past puberty, are phasing. The treaty was lodged before we understood the full effects of your being here, and the connotations behind them.

Your being here, it's like a beacon to those of your kind. But not all Vampires feed as you do, and we can't allow your continued stay to welcome them into our fold. This is your warning; he next time we see you, we'll consider your presence hostile and act accordingly. My loyalties are not to a treaty I had no say in; my oath is sworn to my people, my pack, and those loyal to me. The ancestors were mistaken to ever welcome your kind here."

A light sprinkle began to fall, filtered through the dense trees. "Come on Bella," Paul said, pulling her along.

"Bella!" Alice's voice rang out like a bell, beautiful and clear, but it still sent the birds above fluttering from their trees. _Predator. _"Bella, we're sorry-"

"You don't speak for your whole family," Birdie said, staring at the ground. Her heart had began to race, so Paul pulled her closer, and wrapped himself around her. "Just like Edward didn't before. It isn't fair to anyone. Not them. Not me."

"They will be though," Alice promised. "I can already see it. Edward, he-"

"No." Paul's voice was firm, pouring out in a hard, body-shaking growl. "Absolutely not. No. You heard her, you don't speak for anyone but yourself. You don't get to say he's sorry, and then go home feeling better. He doesn't deserve the absolution. He wouldn't deserve it if he were here himself. He's a dick, you're a dick, you're whole damn family is a bunch of undead dicks. Didn't your mother ever tell you not to play with your food?"

"We've never-" Jasper growled, cutting of his wife. Alice cleared her throat. "_I've_ never hurt a human."

"That's a lie." Paul stared her down, daring her to deny it. His mouth formed the words before he could really think on them. Before he could notice he wasn't only speaking for Swan. "Hurt goes farther than bruises, bones, and blood. You're dead now, but you were alive once. You have to know. If it were just a scar...well, that's easier to heal. Because once the blood is gone, and the skin's closed up, all that's left is a mark. And even over time, that will fade too.. But sometimes, it's the memory that hurts. And memories might fade, but the feelings never do. You can shove them back, keep shoving them back, you can forgive, but you never forget."

"We didn't know-"

"Stop lying!" Paul pushed Swan behind him, feeling his bones creak and twist and want. He wouldn't phase. He wouldn't. "You leeches disgust me. You're worse than the red-eyed kind. You've spent so long playing human, it's like you've forgotten that you're _not_! That's what makes you dangerous! Not your fucking teeth. You've bought your own lies. Bella told me what your brother said. That everything about you is alluring. Addicting. You know what you do to humans, whether you mean to or not. And still, you welcomed her into your world like it couldn't hurt her. You _knew_."

"Alice," Jasper said, silencing her before she could speak. "Go tell them not to come."

Alice nodded, eyes lingering over Swan. "Of course." And with that, Alice Cullen left, in a blur of white.

Jasper didn't speak again until the sounds of her feet were lost to the Olympic Forest. "I knew," he said, nodding. "Specifically, I wasn't aware of the side-effects, as the humans I witnessed were...turned, or killed. But I did know that a human could be...drugged, for a lack of a better word, by our presence alone. I hadn't considered this could be done unintentionally, as I know my brother acted. I was never comfortable with his affiliations, but I wasn't allowed to voice those opinions due to my...violent history." He shrugged. "I've hurt many humans, Bella Swan included. I don't like the way the Cullens live, with their masks and lies. It's hard for me, to carry their charade. But." His eyes trailed the way Alice had come. "I love them. I assume Bella has told you of our abilities? My ability?" Paul and Sam nodded, wordless and wary. "The Cullens loved Bella. It doesn't make things right, it isn't an apology, but it is the truth. I don't know if it helps. I would just...I would rather you know that, Bella."

Swan was still for a long moment, before peering around Paul. He threw an arm over her, and pulled her close again. "I never doubted it." Hadn't she just said that believing as much made it easier to bear?

Jasper hesitated, mouth pulling into a line-less frown as he stared at the pair of them, and then to the wolves. "Are you one pack?"

"What?" Sam's eyes narrowed. "Yes."

"I meant no offense. You're wolves feel different." Jasper pointed to Jared and Jake, and then to Paul and Sam. "You four...are different." He made a face, uncomfortable, but knowing. "You feel mated."

Sam's mouth twitched into a half snarl. "That's not your business."

Jasper nodded, taking a respectful step back. "It isn't. Only...well. Considering the world Bella was lead into...I'd feel better knowing she was mated to one of yours, if not one of mine. Knowing she's safe."

"Her safety isn't your concern." Sam crossed his arms over his chest. "Go now."

"On the border," Jasper said, trudging up the muddy river bank. "One week. At..."

"Sunrise." Sam tipped his head. "Two of mine will meet two of yours. After that, the treaty is done."

"You're not eating enough." He held her hair as she dry heaved, head hanging over his toilet. She was naked, and soapy from her unfinished shower. Rain poured outside, enough to blur the world into a wash of gray and muddy green. The roads were already beginning to flood.

Rinsing her mouth with water straight from the tap, Swan leveled him with a mean glare. "Shut up."

Paul leaned against the counter, frowning. "Is this like a...stomach flu puking, a stress puking or..." He knew the alternatives. "Come on B, talk to me."

"I was just showering." She sighed, and ran her hands through her damp hair. "I was rinsing off when I just...my stomach started hurting. Like cramps, sort of but...I got shaky, kind of dizzy. That's when I called for you."

He threw a towel over her shoulders, and lead her out of the bathroom. "Come on," he grumbled, leading her down the hall. "I've got a TV in my room. I'll make you a grilled cheese. We can hang out until the storm blows over. I don't think Sam needs me right now anyway."

If he did, he'd have called Paul by now. He watched her dry off and slip naked between his sheets. "You need a bucket?" He didn't want to wash the sheets yet, not when they smelled so heavily of her.

Birdie snorted, burying her face in his pillow. "I'm good now. Thanks."

It didn't occur to him what had happen until he'd eaten two sandwiches, and was plating hers. "You don't smell like me anymore," he announced, setting her plate on the bedside table. "I mean, you didn't. In the shower. That's why you spazzed out."

"What?"

"Wolf-stink is like the anti-leech smell. Or something. I don't know. It curbs the cravings. I've figured that was the case by now. You're always more mellow when we're close."

She picked up the sandwich, shredding the crust from the edges methodically. "So I'm addicted to you instead?" She looked green at the thought.

"Not essentially, no. I think it's more like a methadone-effect." Paul had done his research, long before he ever met Swan. "I don't get you high like they did."

"I never felt high with them." Swan scrunched up her nose, and frowned. "At least, I don't think I did. When I found all that stuff in the floorboards, that was...different." She took a bite, chewing slowly, and Paul guessed that she didn't want to talk anymore.

But...tough shit. "That's because you hadn't had a hit in a while. When I'm not with you, how do you feel?"

"Like crap," she answered, embarrassed."I miss you. But..not like I missed Jake. When he left, I felt sick. It was like missing Edward, but on a different level I guess. But when you're not around...I don't know. I just miss you. Shut up, stop making that face. We don't actually spend all that much time apart."

And they didn't, not recently. Or maybe the last two days just felt like an eternity. "I think..and I mean, I'm just pulling this stuff out of my ass so I could be wrong, but I think that Jake was your original methadone." Paul slipped into bed behind her, tucking his chin up over her shoulder. "He's what curbed your original...cravings. And then you were cut off cold turkey, and it was like jonesing all over again. And then me."

"So, you don't think I'm addicted to you," Swan said, mouth pulling into a frown. "I still need you though. I mean, not like that. Although, I guess. It doesn't hurt. But...I don't know. I don't know when this happened." She shrugged against him, lacing her fingers with his where they laid over her stomach. "But, I feel like me again. Not even just when I'm with you, but...since I've met you. I feel better, awake. Something. Maybe not happy, maybe not yet. But...I feel like I could belong here, on the Rez, with you and the Pack." She laughed, curling over into him. " Slapping you in the face might have been the smartest thing I've ever done."

The memory of that day sparked something in his mind, vague and fuzzy. It hurt, almost, to think about. That in itself made Paul want to pick at it. So he did. He picked at it, but he found that he couldn't. Couldn't remember anything but the heat of her palm on his face and Sam's voice in the back of his head, buzzing loud and angry. Couldn't remember anything but the steely gaze of her wide brown eyes. Couldn't remember anything but the sound of Swan's feet as the pack lead her away. Couldn't remember anything but the way the wolf had howled, victorious even before he'd landed a blow on Jacob. Couldn't remember anything but...but that was everything, wasn't it? Then why did it feel like something was missing, like a piece of the puzzle hadn't yet to fall in place?

He wasn't sure. He couldn't remember.

Instead, he thought what had happened afterward. Little by little, Paul had worked his way into her life. What had began as a self-serving, grudgingly offered promise had somehow stumbled out of control, spinning until it was this, a tangled web of arms and legs, twisted between Paul's sheets and the inexplicable sense of _rightness_. He couldn't figure out where it had happen, where the road had forked and he'd chosen this path. Except, maybe there had never been a fork. Maybe this had always been the path.

Maybe it was just meant to be.

The wolf snarled, tearing a tremor right through him. _Yes. Remember it. _

"Hey, you're shaking." Birdie rolled over, and looked up at him, those eyes of her wide as ever except now...well. Now Paul couldn't look away. How could he, now when she had those big brown eyes on him? How could he look away when he felt like this? How could he...breathe. How could he think? How could he function with her hands on him? How had he gotten here? How couldn't he have known? How could he look away, when he felt like he was being gutted and re-filled with sharp little shards of broken glass and _pain_. " Paul? What's wrong? Say something. You're scaring me."

_Mine,_ the wolf said, with vicious satisfaction. _Mine forever. Don't forget._

Paul was pretty sure imprinting shouldn't hurt so bad.

"I have to go," hechoked, rolling out of the bed. He could taste blood in his mouth, acrid and hot. "I...I have to go. Stay inside. Stay in bed. Sam...I need to talk to Sam. Stay inside."

"Paul!" Swan struggled to free herself from the sheets, sitting up in a state of perfect ruin. Her hair was a mess, and her skin was pale, and peppered with bruises and cuts. She was still too damn thin. Paul was fairly sure the sight of her shouldn't break his heart and fill him with light all at once. He felt sick.

"I'll be back," he told Bella. Bella Swan, his imprint. Bella Swan, _his_. His, a thousand times over. And... He shook his head, a migraine brewing behind his eyes. Something was missing. Something..."Please just...I..."

"Go," Bella said, brows pulled together in confusion, in hurt. "Just...come back, okay?"

"I..." God. How could he leave her? But it hurt to look at her, almost like he shouldn't. Like he wasn't aloud. "Of course. Always."

It hurt to look at her. _Why_?

He phased, but found no comfort in the way the wolf wrapped around him and took over. All he could see was Bella, the smell of her etched deep within his skin. Bella Swan. Bella Swan, his forever. Remember. Don't forget.

The last thing he saw was _black_.

**A/N** So, this happened. Honestly this wasn't how I planned it, but I kind of like it.


	19. Slam to a Stand Still

**A****/****N** So, after a series of issues; working on my novel, my ritalin being temporarily cut off (which fucks over any thought of writing, let met ell you), losing my job...I am back! This chapter is a little bit shorter, but I think it's a good start. Sorry to keep you all waiting.

in·ert

[in-urt, ih-nurt]

_**adjective**_

**1.**

having no inherent power of action, motion, or resistance: _inert __matter__._

The kitchen table felt like a million miles between them, in a way that it never did before. It didn't matter that their feet were tangled below, and their fingers tangled above. It didn't matter that it was only three feet between them, _it __felt __like __a __million __miles__. _

Because, Paul realized, he could _never_be close enough to Bella Swan. It would always feel like too much. Is this how they all felt? Jared, Sam, Jake? How could they stand it?

Two days had come and gone since Sam had found Paul in the mud. Bella had stayed with him at her father's insistence. The storm had torn through the Rez and Forks, but the damage was minimal. The same could not be said up the coast. The body found had been cast off as another animal attack. Chief Swan had been called out to help where he could, aiding the folks tucked deep in the forest, cut off and stranded by downed trees and failing electricity.

They were eating dinner; they were _both _eating dinner. That was a thing she did now, and regularly. He wanted to tell her he was proud but that was stupid and he wasn't sure how to say it without sounding like an idiot or a condescending dick anyway. He wanted to say a lot of things, but they all felt stupid, felt like too much. Not enough. He felt sick. He wanted to tell her, but he couldn't. _Physically _could not.

He wanted to, though. That had to count.

"You know I love you right?" Paul was startled by his own voice, by his words. His hands clenched around hers, and he swallowed, scowling. He hadn't meant to say it, but he wouldn't take it back.

Bella blinked up at him, fork hovering near her mouth. She abandoned it with a shaky hand. "I...didn't. I mean, I know you...that _we__... _I don't know what we were. Are. Together? I know we're together. I...wow." She flushed, flustered and overwhelmed. Paul could practically feel it as if it were his own emotion, and maybe it was; he felt overwhelmed as well.

He didn't expect a reciprocal declaration. "You don't need to say anything, I just...wanted you to know. That I love you. I've...it's not a new thing. I just need you to know that I've loved you for a while now."

She smiled slightly, a barely-there curve to her lips. "Okay." Her cheeks were pink. "I um...I...don't trust myself to say it right now. I'm sorry-"

"Shit, don't be sorry! I wasn't saying it because I wanted you to...God, no. Shut up. You don't gotta say it, B. You don't even gotta feel it, I just need you to know that no matter what, I've loved you since-" _You __were __six __years __old__. __Since __you __slapped __me__. __Since__..._ "I don't know when. Just...a while now."

Her smile faded, mouth pursing into a frown. "Paul...does this have to do with you dissapearing? You've been...weird since then. Is it Edward? I'm not taking him back Paul, even if he did show up; I never would."

"Thats...good to know." She'd never see him to take him back; if Edward Cullen showed up, Paul would kill him. "But no, I just wanted you to know. Just...thought maybe you needed to hear it."

"It certainly doesn't hurt," she said, smiling now with teeth. "Feel free to repeat."

He did, mostly because he could. Because it didn't make his skin crawl just thinking about it. Loving her had nothing to do with the...with the-He flinched. "I love you. I've never told anyone that before. I don't even tell my mother I love her. I haven't since I was seven. I mean, don't get me wrong, I do love her. I love Jared too, I guess, but I'd certainly never fucking tell him. I just...yeah. Wanted you to know. How important you are. To me. "

She looked startled at that, fingers twitching in his. "Paul..."

"I just want you to know that when I say it, I mean it. It's not something I'd ever _just _say, and I know that's sappy as fuck, I just...I just need you to know. I need you to believe me." Because...because he had to tell her about the im... the truth. He had to tell her, and he didn't want her to think that was why he loved her. Because it wasn't. It f_ucking __wasn__'__t__._ Paul loved her all on his own, dammit. He'd chosen this. He'd chosen her.

Hadn't he?

Two Days Prior

The pain was crippling.

Paul couldn't tell where he began, and where he ended for all that he felt skinned, and raw. It was as if every single nerve ending was being rubbed. With sandpaper. Hot sandpaper. It wasn't unlike having all your fingernails torn off and then dipped in bleach. Even his eyes felt raw, so dry he was sure they would crack. He clenched them tight, and even that hurt.

When he opened them again, it was dark. It hadn't been, when he left. The dirt had softened to mud, and the rain still poured, cool against his heated skin. He didn't hurt any less, but he was _awake_.

Two feet, bare and thick with red mud, filled his vision. "Hnggg." He tried to speak, but his mouth wouldn't work, too dry and pain-slackened.

"Paul."

Sam. Sam's voice. Paul twitched, flopping back in the mood to look up at his Alpha. Relief could be found there, because when something was wrong, Sam could fix it. Sam could fix anything. "Hurts."

"Were you attacked?" Sam dropped to a crouch beside him, calloused fingers poking and prodding, tugging at his eyelids when they felt shut. "Paul!"

"No." It hadn't been that. What had it been? Bella. "I...I _imp__-" _He coughed, hard and violent, so hard his lungs burned. "On Swan."

Sam's mouth twitched, a smile pulling at his mouth, though the worry never left his eyes. "I thought you might have," he said slowly. "But I couldn't figure out how you were keeping it a secret."

"Wasn't," Paul choked, because it fucking hurt. It hurt to think about. Hurt to speak it. But it also seemed to open his eyes, and kick him into drive. "Just...just. I just impri-. Sam, I just impr..._fuck_. Oh God., just now, on Swan, why? _Why_?"

The smile on his face fell away, and Sam stared at Paul with narrowed eyes. "It wasn't just now Paul. The leech even said you felt mated. I was sure you imprinted back when you started lumping her in with the other imprints. I thought you were just hiding it somehow."

"But..." Paul clenched his teeth, shuddering as a new wave of pain racked his body. "No, I...just now. I looked at her, and it hurt Sam. God, it hurts so much I can't even..."

_Not__now__! _The wolf snarled._Forever__. __Remember__. __Don__'__t __forget __again__. _

"Paul!" Sam shook him, or no...no Paul was just shaking. "Paul! Wake up. Wake up, look at me. _Now_!"

It was the Alpha tenor that tore open his eyes. Paul couldn't not obey. "The wolf says forever. Don't forget. Don't forget _again_. I think..." The wolf growled, and Paul flinched violently, curling up in the mud gasping. "I think it's happened before."

"What?" Sam's knees had sunk deep in the mud, as he curled his hand over Paul's shoulder. "What happened?"

It flashed before him, still-shots and fluttering memories, big brown eyes and broken smiles and gray cotton boy shorts. Paul couldn't breath. "I think I've ….before, Sam. On Bella. But it..it didn't stick, or I forgot or..." He felt bile rise in his throat, and turned his head just in time to throw up all over his own shoulder. "I can't. I can't-" His heart hammered in his chest, too fast, just like Bella with her hummingbird beat. "I can't remember it. I _can__'__t_."

"Okay, okay," Sam said in a rush. "Deep breaths. Don't think on it. Don't-"

"I can't not!" Paul snarled, because seriously. Bella was his...she was his..."How can I not? She's...how can I _not_?" He reached up and grabbed Paul by the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. "You have to make me."

"What?" Sam panicked, grabbing Paul hard by the wrist. "No, I can't. Paul, I don't think I _can_. An Alpha order isn't suppose to circumvent an imprint."

What happened next, Paul couldn't be sure. It was as if he'd been shoved to the back of his own mind. _"__Liar__!"_ He lurched forward, body curling, and grabbed Sam by the throat. "You did this," he snarled, in a voice that was his, but not his at all. It echoed itself, layered between human and man. "You did this to us."

Sam must have sensed the shift, the rise of the wolf to close to the skin, and clamped his hand around Paul's neck. "_Down_."

It was a dogs command, but it worked. He couldn't fight the Alpha tenor. Paul shot back like he'd been punched, smacking against the wet ground, hand flopping beside him. "Sam. _Help __me_." It crashed down on him in waves; bloody, broken _agony_. Nothing had ever hurt so badly, not his first phase, not his mother's failure to fucking protect him like she should have, not his father's abandonment, _nothing_. "You did this," his wolf growled again, taking over his mouth in a way it never could before. "You did this Alpha, you did this, you took her away, made us forget, you took-"

Sam's Alpha order was losing its hold, and Paul felt himself pushing up off the mud, felt his limbs move, his muscles work, but he couldn't stop them, didn't control them. He was phasing, tearing out of his own skin even as he lunged for Sam's throat.

Sam grappled to pin him, calloused hands giving way to clawed paws. It was a fight, a _real_one. Paul was feral for it, couldn't stop himself. It took Sam and Jacob to get him down again, while Paul begged them to just fucking kill him, and his wolf snarled and snapped.

Sam pinned him, teeth pressed hard against his throat. '_Submit_,' he growled, biting down. hard enough to bleed. _'__Submit_!'

His wolf wouldn't.

Current  
****

Bella squeezed his hand once before pushing out of her chair, and rounding the table. He wasted no time looping an arm around her hip and pulling her close so he could bury his face into her stomach. "I believe you," she assured him, in a quiet murmur, as her hands carded through his hair. "Come on, up-up. Go get in bed, I'll take care of the dishes."

"No, I don't want-"

"Whatever it is your freaking out about, I can't help you if you don't tell me." She pulled away, and looked down at him. "I'm not asking you to tell me, but I am asking you to trust me. I just want to...to help. I just want you to stop looking so damn lost Paul, because it's freaking _me _out. So go get into bed, I'm going to do up these dishes, and then I'm going to come in there and we're going to do that thing we're not suppose to talk about."

The little burst of laughter escaped him before he could help it. "Cuddling is a stupid word."

It was exactly what he needed. His bed felt too big without her in it. He laid awkwardly on the bedspread, to hot to bother with it, in nothing but a loose pair of shorts. He could hear her tinkering about in the kitchen; the slight clink-clink of plates settling in the sink, the rush of the faucet, the groan of the water heater.

"I left a plate out for Embry," she said, as she stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. Bella let her clothes fall to the floor in a shameless pile. Paul liked it, liked how she checked her self-consciousness at the door because she knew he didn't have the patience for that shit. He liked that she trusted him enough to believe him when he said she was fucking beautiful. "Move over."

He didn't bother moving, just pulled her down on top of him, tucked her up under his chin and held her there against his chest. To his credit, she _let _him. "Sorry I've been weird."

"Will you tell me what happened? It's not the Cullens, right?"

Had she been worried about that? God, he'd been a dick. Had his head right up his own ass. "No, no. As far as I know, Jasper rounded up the last newborn earlier today. He'll still be meeting with the pack tomorrow, but thats it. I just...found out some shit I wasn't really ready for and I don't know how to deal with it. Can't talk about it, really. Not specifically." Not without feeling like he was being cut in half, anyway.

"You haven't been phasing," she said tentatively, tracing her finger along his left collarbone. "You know you can, right? Even here, with me. I mean, you already have. You won't hurt me."

"That's probably not the best idea." His wolf wanted her to badly. It was a fight to even keep it at bay, keep it locked away. It wanted Paul to shut up, and step aside. Paul couldn't trust it, not with Bella. It wanted her too badly.

She frowned. "You love being a wolf; I don't want to get in the way of that. Go out, if you have to."

_She __likes __me_, the wolf muttered, pleased. _She __accepts __me__. _

_You__'__ll __hurt __her__._ Paul forced it away, forced the shake of his hands to ease.

_I __would __never__. _

"I do love being a wolf, but I'd rather be here with you. At least until the leeches are gone, okay? Give me that much?"

He didn't tell her that he couldn't phase. Wasn't allowed too. Sam had put the whammy on him when Paul had tried to kill him for the third time. Paul's wolf, rather. Paul had laid in the mud while the Alpha order took hold, horrified at what his own hands tried to do. His wolf wanted the Alpha dead.

_He __did __this __to __us__._

It was too early to sleep, barely past six, but it didn't stop him. When next he woke, it was dark and he was alone.

"I just don't know what to do," Bella said, from the living room. "Did I do something wrong? It isn't that he's mad at me, it's just like...I don't know what I did. I don't know how to fix it. He's been so worked up, but he won't phase. He needs to though, doesn't he?"

"You didn't do anything wrong!" Jake's voice was vehement. Paul hadn't expected that. "Paul's just...look Bella, Paul loves you, okay? You gotta let that be enough."

"He said the same thing today; that he loved me. He's never said it before. I didn't say it back, I didn't...I wanted to but the last time I thought I was in love, I was actually just roofied. And Paul says that his scent affects me too; what if...what if I can't trust what I'm feeling?"

"She can't," Paul muttered, just low enough for Jake to hear. "It's all a bunch of shit." He wasn't sure that was true though; he could love her without hurting. Imp- _that_, on the other hand, felt like death.

_Sam __did __this __to __us__. __Sam __hurt __us__. __Hurt __our __Bella__. _

"Bella," Jake began, but Paul knew to listen. "You're too smart to believe that. Does being with Paul...being with any of the wolves feel like it did when you were with the leeches?"

"No. I feel...lighter. Cleaner. Like I can breath. My head doesn't hurt, my...my heart doesn't hurt. I don't ever want to leave and that's what scares me. What if I can't? What if the only way I can feel good, is to be here with Paul? Not that it would be terrible," she rushed to add. "You know I love the Rez. I feel safe here, with you and the pack. With Paul. But I can't stay here forever."

_Why __not__?_

"You know, Paul's buying this house?" Jake added, with absolutely no segue. Paul didn't get where he was going with it. "He rents the room to Embry for dirt cheap, but it's in his name and he pays the bulk of it. He built the back porch too. He does a lot of fix-it stuff around the Rez."

"Okay," Bella said, with the same befuddled tone that Paul felt. "So?"

"He'd never ask you to leave," Jake said in a rush. "He'd let you live here, with him. I know you guys are...that serious. You could stay? Why do you think you can't?"

"Because I...because I just can't."

_But why?_

"You're not a burden here, Bells. The pack loves you, Paul loves you. You could stay. You'll never be home like you are here. No one can keep you safe like we can."

"No one should have to keep me safe, Jake-"

"No one should live life scared." Jake's voice was firm, almost challenging. Paul shifted against the sheets, and rolled of the bed. His feet were silent against the floor, as he came to stand near the doorway."Can you honestly tell me you could leave, and not spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder? Can you honestly tell me that if you left...they wouldn't follow you?"

Bella was curled up on the couch; he couldn't see her, but he could see her shadow stretched across the beige carpet. "Of course they would. But that doesn't mean I should stay here."

"The best place for you is here." He watched Jake drop to a crouch in front of the couch, could tell he was looking up at her just by the look on his face. Just as dopey as before, but without the desperate edge.

"Jake, I can't keep asking others to pay for my mistakes. I can't expect the pack to always be there-"

"We made mistakes too," Jacob told her. "Just as our ancestors did before us. But Bella...you're never going to be safe out there. Not from them, and not from yourself."

Paul heard her choke, a soft, breathy little sob. "Jake..." Black was right to say it; Bella was her own worst enemy.

"Paul will never let them hurt you," Jake assured her. Paul leaned against the doorframe with his heart in his throat. "He won't let you hurt you either. You have to stay."

"I'll never know," Bella whispered. "I'll never know if I'm staying because I want to stay, or because I have too. I'll never know if I need him or I _want _him."

_Neither __will __I__,_ Paul thought, not a little sadly. He knew that he loved her, of that there was no doubt. But, was it because of the im-. They were separate things of course, but that didn't mean one hadn't caused the other. Did it?

He'd never know.

"Does that matter?" Jake's voice was imploring. "Isn't wanting to stay enough? What does it matter, the reason? Wanting it should be enough. It's like imprinting," he said boldly, and Paul flinched as the word cut at him like broken glass. "We can't know what it would be like, to have never...But does that mean I love Leah less for it? Would I have loved her without it? I don't know. But I don't care because I love her now. What does it matter that you can't know you don't need him like that?"

"I don't like the idea of someone having that kind of control over me," Bella said in a whisper, and the admittance hurt almost as badly as Jake's word. Paul would never-.

But that wasn't true. If he thought it could help her, he'd use anything against her. He'd do anything to make her feel better.

"It isn't like Cullen," Jake interrupted. "He can't make you do anything. He can't control your mind, or sway you one way or the other. You said it yourself; he just makes you feel better. It's not like with them; you can leave, if you want too." He paused for a moment, eyes flickering to Paul. "You can leave. You have that power. But you won't, because the best place for you is here. Your happier here, your healthier. Safer."

"How can I trust what I'm feeling, if it's because I'm dependant-"

"It doesn't have to be about dependency; you're not staying because you need him, Bella. _Anyone _in there right mind would choose what made them happy. Paul makes you happy. You can stay because of that. You can tell yourself that's why you're staying, and you can believe it. It's okay."

"He does." She sniffed, heart beating a little more steady now. Paul hadn't realized how attuned he was to that, her heart, her scent, her everything. "Make me happy, I mean."

"That's more than most people can say." Jake reached out, to pat her leg by the sounds of it. "Everything else is moot. No point in dwelling on it, not when the real fact, the most important fact, is that you're happy here with him. Nothing else has to matter. Not the addiction, not the leeches, not the -" Jake cleared his throat, flinching. "Let yourself be happy. Both of you."

**A****/****N**the fact of the matter here kiddos is this; neither one will ever really know why they came together. Addiction, leeches, imprinting, fate; they'll never know. That kind of thing can really fuck with someone. If they let it.


	20. Cocaine Brain, Heroin Heart

Thanks to Fydora for challenging me to give this story more shape.

**Chapter 20 **- Cocaine Brain, Heroin Heart

**miss·ing **

/ˈmisiNG/

Adjective

(of a thing) Not able to be found because it is not in its expected place.

Not present or included when expected or supposed to be.

**Same day as last chapter - March 29th (three weeks since Imprint One)**

"Why don't you go get ready. I'll wake Paul up, we can go grab dinner at the diner or something. It probably wouldn't hurt for you to get out of the house for a little bit." Jake flashed her a grin. "Do something normal, and non-vampire related."

"Are you sure that's safe?" Bella's face skipped a beat, uneven with worry.

"You'll be with Paul and I. Face it Bells; your best friend and boyfriend are both werewolves. That's basically as safe as you're going to get."

"Are you and Paul talking again?" Bella sounded surprised. "You don't have to hang out with him for my sake Jake. It won't make or break our relationship; yours and mine or mine and Paul's. I needed time away from you because of me, not him."

It sounded more like a _I don't give a shit if you're not best friends_, than anything else. Pragmatic; Paul wasn't use to her being so pragmatic. It pleased him. She was getting her shit together it seemed, regardless of the situation.

Jake sighed, and ran a hand through his shaggy hair. "Eventually I'm going to take over the Pack," he said at length. "Sam is great at getting over petty bullshit, at sifting through the crap and getting to the heart of the matter. I'm not. But I'd like to be. Paul and I are not best friends, but he's my brother, and I need to learn how to put that before everything else."

Paul stared at him, and knew Jacob could practically feel the weight of it. "Well, Paul could probably work on not baiting you," Bella said, shamelessly siding with Jacob.

Paul didn't mind so much. He wouldn't spite her for opinions.

"Well, I'm going to try and give him less reason to bait me. Paul's given me a lot of shit in the past, and not _all_of it was merited," he added, rather pointedly. "But... he's Paul. Which means two things; he's a dick, and he means well. He only ever pushes people to be better, and yeah, he's not above tough-love. I'm guessing you know that first hand though."

"He threw me in a tree," Bella offered. She was never going to let that go.

"Paul doesn't think I'd make a very good Alpha." Jacob fell silent for a moment. "And he's not wrong. An Alpha needs to understand the priorities of the pack. I didn't understand them before. I was selfish; I am selfish. But, I'm working on it. A Pack has to work as a united front; they have to want the same things. Leah's helped...well. She's all for tough-love too."

Bella snorted. "You mean she doesn't have time for your woe-is-me bullshit? Yeah, I can see that. She's good for you though. That's what imprinting," Paul flinched, gut clenching, " is about, right? Complementing each other."

"That's a really good way to look at it. Im...It's never one-sided. Where Leah has helped me stop being such a selfish shit, I'd like to think I've helped her mellow out. Helped her realize what was pain and what was just...resentment, or confusion. We're better people, together. That's what imp...That's what it does, Bella. It makes you better, together."

She went silent for a long moment, before sighing. "I'm going to go wake Paul up. No offense, but I doubt the first thing he wants to see is your face." Paul sprinted back to the bed, sprawling out quickly on his belly,just as Bella pushed the door open.

"Hey," she murmured, kneeling over him. He felt her hand brush through his hair. "You hungry? We never did finish dinner."

"You smell like Jake," he murmured. She did smell like Jake; they must have hugged. It made his Wolf twitch, and snarl. _Jake is not Sam_, he reminded it, viciously. _Jake loves our Bella._Paul never thought he'd be using that to assuage his inner beast, but Jake did love her, and would protect her fiercely. "What's up?"

"Jake's here, actually. We were going to grab something to eat, you're invited." She hesitated. "He invited you."

He made a show of rolling onto his back. "Leaving would require pants, but I guess it wouldn't hurt."

She grinned at him, and pressed a quick kiss against his mouth. She kissed him a lot, he realized, usually just because she could. It was a leech thing, but he didn't care to ask. "Thank you."

"I have no idea what you could be thanking me for," he replied with a grunt, and Bella only continued to smile.

She grabbed some clothes out of the dresser, and a towel off the back of the desk chair. "I'm going to grab a quick shower."

He was doing up his fly when Jake stepped into the kitchen. Neither had anything to say, anything that wasn't awkward at any rate. Paul wasn't about to thank Jacob for stepping up and acting like an actual pack member and not a fucking child. Sure, he appreciated it, but it didn't merit announcing.

"This whole situation is fucked up." He jammed his feet into his boots. "Bella...she takes more stock in your word. More than mine."

Jake rolled his eyes. "I'm not sure that's true anymore. You've done more for her in a span of a few weeks, than I did in months."

But how much had been because Paul, and how much had been because of their imp-. He took a deep breath, and reminded himself that it didn't have to matter. All that mattered was that it helped, that Bella was getting better. "What I'm trying to say is that...this whole situation is fucked up, but Bella's lucky to have you help her work it all out. When the time comes." When he could tell her.

"I'm not just here for Bella," Jake said with great reluctance. "I want Bella to be happy. Which means I want you too be happy. You two, you're a packaged deal now. No one's surprised. Paul, you have to know that this would have happened even if you hadn't randomly im..." He shook his head. "You two, the way you are around each other-"

"Is because of the...the..." Paul waved his hand in a circle, as if to encompass just exactly what it was because of.

"Are you honestly saying you never thought about her before that?"

"This time wasn't the first time," Paul told him, vehemently. He knew Jake didn't believe him, but Paul believed his wolf, and his wolf was adamant of the fact.

Jake let it go without argument. "Charlie says you use to have a crush on her." Of course Charlie would have spoken with Jacob about him. Of course. No doubt getting the inside story of Paul Lahote. "Just like Jared was with Kim. Just like I-" He flushed, and stopped.

"Had a thing for Leah did you?" Wasn't surprising; Leah was hot. Most the guys on the Rez had a thing for her at one point or another, even when it became violently apparent what a horrid shrew of a ball buster she really was. Her hotness outranked her crazy, which was saying something because _that shit was cray. _

"We could all doubt what the gods have offered," Jacob said, instead of answering. "We could all dissect it, break it down, try to understand it, verify it, _vilify _it. But in the end, we can't change it."

Paul heard the water shut off, heard Bella stumble her way out of the shower stall. "So what you're saying is I should just accept it? Just accept that she's _trapped _here, with me."

To that, Jacob smiled. "It's grossly adorable how worried about her you are. It makes me want to yack."

"I just don't want her here because she has to be. I don't want to spend forever wondering if she's here because I'm a fix, because I get her by." He hated the way the words came tumbling out, honest and desperate. Jacob didn't know it, but he already invoked the same Alpha-Trust as Sam once had.

_Sam_, his wolf growled at the mere thought, rising up in him like a river tide. Paul shook it off though, pushed it down and forced himself to focus on Jake.

"I was a fix; you're her cure." Jacobs words were earnest, his eyes beseeching. "She came to me to get-by. She came to me for a rush. I didn't realize it at the time, but she came to me just to feel _something_. The motorcycles, the fucking cliff... She comes to you because she feels safe. Because she _trusts _you to never hurt her, never let her be hurt. Never let her hurt _herself_. And that Paul, that is worth more than any imprint. Sorry. But it's true. Because Bella doesn't let anyone take care of her, not even her mother or father. Not even the Cullens, from what I've heard. No one but you. Because no one else makes her feel safe. Even if it is because of the imprint, it isn't any less true. You're the only person she trusts."

"Paul?" Bella's voice carried from the bathroom before Paul could think of any worthy response. "Can you bring me a towel?"

Jacob reached out and clapped Paul on the shoulder. "I'll meet you at the diner."

"Thanks." Paul nodded slowly, and hesitated. "Baby Alpha."

For the first time, it didn't sound like an insult.

The diner was dead, but really when wasn't it? Paul and Jacob ordered half the menu. Bella ordered her own food without the insistence of Paul, which was new. "And can I get a milkshake with that?" She added, slapping the menu shut.

"Sure thing honey," said, shooting Paul a knowing grin. "On the house." Paul scowled at the napkin dispenser and prayed to whatever god was listening that she didn't embarrass him. But when had the gods listened to Paul Lahote? "You know, I don't think PJ's ever brought a girl by. You must be Bella Swan; I haven't seen you since you were in pull-ups honey."

"I...I'm sorry, I don't remember you." Bella's face was the perfect picture of apologetic, even as she shot Jake and Paul helpless looks.

With a dimpled grin, his quasi-Aunt reached out and ruffled Paul's hair. "Well I don't imagine you would; that was years ago. I'm Jared's mom. I better go get your orders in. Hope I see more of you soon, Bella honey."

She traipsed off, a smirk splashed across her face that Paul just did not appreciate. "Why do I feel like I just met your mother?" Bella blinked at him, mouth pulled into a frown.

"Because you pretty much did; she practically raised me. My mother worked a lot; I spent most my time over at Jared's. She's cool though. She's family." Bella had yet to meet his real mother and...and Paul wasn't in any rush.

"Speaking of family," Jacob cut in, before Paul could feel anymore awkward. "Dad wants you to come over for dinner some time. Bring your old man. Honestly, I think he just wants you to cook. We haven't eaten a real meal in a while. Paul can come too, I guess."

Paul kicked him under the table, but Jacob just grinned. "Maybe...maybe after everything is done? We could make it a pack thing. Doesn't your dad usually do something for the Equinox anyway? I know it's a little late, but I'd still cook. I'd probably need help though. Maybe Emily and Kim or something."

She was inadvertently lumping herself in with the other im...with the others. Which made sense, Paul supposed. The rest of the pack hadn't had time to date, as of late. Kim and Emily were the only other girls around, besides Leah. And if Bella didn't want to hang out with Leah yet, well Paul didn't really blame her.

"Uh." Jacob squirmed, eyes flickering between Paul and Bella. "I don't know if that's such a good thing, Bells. The pack..."

The pack was broken, Paul thought. Because his wolf. "I don't see why not," Paul cut in, because if Bella wanted to get the fucking pack together and eat, they'd get the fucking pack together eat. He'd been bugging her to get in with the pack forever (a few short weeks) and she had been, in a way, but this? This was good. This was all on her. Paul would make it happen.

"Yeah," Jacob said at length, eyes narrowed. "I don't see why not. I'll run it by the guys."

There food was delivered with little more embarrassment. Jake and Paul ate like they hadn't in years (which to be fair, Paul hadn't finished his dinner). Even Bella ate with a gusto Paul had yet to witness (which is to say, she actually ate). "What," she said, defensively, as both he and Jake stared at her. "I'm hungry."

"Yeah." Paul handed her a french fry, just to watch her eat it. She did so, with an irritated little scowl.

Swallowing, she shrugged her skinny shoulders. "I like this," she said, staring down at her plate. "You two, not ripping into each other and stuff. I know you won't ever be best friends, but...I don't know. It's nice."

"You're wide awake, and I'm ready to drop," Bella said, kicking off her shoes by the door. "Thanks for doing this tonight; it was nice to see Jacob. It was like things were normal again. Normalish. Kind of gave me a second to forget everything else. I think I needed that."

Paul tossed his keys and phone on the kitchen counter, before hooking a finger into the belt loop of her pants. He pulled her close, tucking her against him. "Jacob will be my Alpha; it's better that I learn to accept him now. But, beyond that, he's your friend. I figure that means he'll be in my life, whether I like it or not."

"All true." Bella smiled against his chest. "But, we both know you could be a bigger ass about it. So, thank you."

"Yeah, yeah. Just don't expect us to braid each others hairs and get matching tattoos." He rolled his eyes as Bella tapped her fingers against his tattoo. "Yeah well, the hair braiding thing stands."

He let her go after that, with a quick kiss and a slap on the ass. She huffed, and shot him a glare but it was ruined by the contentment _oozing _out of her, minty and fresh.

Jacob's words sat with him, both those he spoke to Paul himself, and those he told Bella. It still felt like Bella was being trapped, held against her will, and it didn't sit right with him. That in itself could have been the imprint, but Paul wasn't so sure. None of the other mated wolves cared to worry. They embraced it, even Sam. But Paul couldn't, couldn't let himself believe it was that easy. It was as if something was holding him back from accepting what the Gods had given him.

_Sam_, his wolf howled, bloody and furious.

"Oh shut up," Paul snapped, hunching his shoulders. He stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, saw the wolf there, in his eyes. It had always ran close to the surface, but since the incident, Paul could barely keep it smothered. Especially around Bella. "Sam didn't do shit to us. Sam is our Alpha. Our _friend_."

_Sam is not our Alpha_, it continued, and Paul bared his teeth against his will. _Sam stole what was yours. Remember. _

"Sam didn't steal Bella!" Paul slapped his hand down on the counter rough enough to chip the cheap formica. He sucked in a breath, listening for Bella's easy, steady breaths. She was still asleep. In a quieter voice, he closed his eyes and wished he didn't feel so crazy, talking to himself. "Bella is ours."

_No one can have her,_the wolf agreed. _Sam took something else. _

"What?" Paul flexed his hands over the sink. "Why can't you just tell me?"

_Until you remember_, the wolf snarled, eyes flashing yellow, _neither can I. _

It made enough sense; Paul was the wolf, and the wolf was Paul. But... "You've already remembered more than me."

_I've acknowledged more than you, _it corrected, with slightly more patience. _Let me show you. Let me help you. _

"No." The minute Paul let go, he knew the wolf would go after Sam. "No. Just...show me what you know. Show me what you've _acknowledged_."

***squiggly flashback lines*  
**  
Three days, and Jacob was already pining. For the love of God, Paul wanted to go get the damn Swan girl so Jacob could imprint on her and fucking be done already. They had other things to worry about; like Quil and the leech sniffing around the edges of their land. The constant, never ending ache Black insisted on inflicting upon them all was beginning to wear everyone down. Paul got it, really he did, Jacob loved her blah blah blah. Paul didn't and he was a little tired of feeling like he did.

As it would turn out, Paul didn't need to go get the Swan girl. She delivered herself, smelling like anger and inexplicably Quil. Paul growled. Did she actively seek every potentially dangerous thing in a ten mile radius? Quil was days from phasing, and yet she had found him. The gray hair Charlie must have gotten since taking her in...Paul didn't pity the man.

"She shouldn't have been alone with Quil," Sam agreed quietly, watching her stomp up the shoddy path to the Black house. They air was peppered with the scent of a leech, and Quil was a danger in his own right. "The girl has a death wish. Come on."

Swan saw them, and wasted no time launching her tiny attack. She shoved Sam, little hands slamming against his chest. A death wish; Sam was right. "You. You did this! He didn't want this! He didn't want this with you and _your_-"

Want _this_? Who would want _this_? It made Paul see red. He pushed past Sam, towering over the girl. "What did he do? What did he _do_! What did he tell you?" Jacob Black; that boy just thought he was better than everyone. Didn't need to listen. Didn't need to obey. Didn't need to-

"Nothing! He tells me nothing because he's scared of you."

It was laughable. Jacob wasn't scared. He was _pissed_. He was pissed at her, and her pining over a leech. He was pissed and pining himself. It was laughable, and Paul laughed, head thrown back. He looked down at her, intent on telling her just exactly what she should be afraid of but the words didn't come. Because in that moment, Paul _saw_Bella for the very first time.

Paul blinked against the harsh morning light filtering through the bathroom window, and wondered what the hell he was doing on the floor. Small hands, small and soft, held him by the front of his shirt, shaking him roughly.

"Paul? Paul! Oh my God. _Paul_."

His vision swam, but the mess of brown curls were familiar enough. "Swan? What...what the hell happened?"

There were tears in her pretty brown eyes. They caught on her lashes, before escaping down her cheek, and Paul was suddenly reminded of his words **'**_you're pretty when you cry_**'**. It him in the gut, so visceral he shivered with it.

"I don't know," she cried, lip trembling. "I just found you like this. I don't know what happen, or how long you've been here. God, you must have hit your head. There's blood everywhere." She touched his temple, and he could feel the tacky, dried blood there. "You scared me. I thought you were dead."

"It better take more than a head wound to kill me," Paul grumbled, sitting up. . Everything around him swam, fuzzy and too-bright. It felt like a hangover, and he was sure he hadn't felt this terrible since phasing. Something was wrong. "Shit. Can you call Sam?"

Swan scrambled up. "Yeah yeah, of course. Embry's sleeping. Want me to get him? "

Paul could only nod.

Embry stared down at him, eyes narrowed. "You look like shit."

Looking up from where he'd had his head between his knees, Paul glared. "I feel like shit."

Crouching in front of him, Embry poked at his temple with decidedly less gentle hands than Swan. "What the hell you do, brain yourself on the counter?" It was a rhetorical question; the answer was obvious. From the corner of his eye, Paul could see the blood, brilliant red against the dingy formica countertop. " It's all healed, at least. Bella said you told her to call Sam. Not Jacob."

Paul looked up at that, brow furrowing. "Why the hell would I have her call Jake? He ain't my Alpha." Unless some serious shit went down during the Cullen send-pff, but no. Paul would have known. Unless of course, he'd been laying in a pool of his own blood on the bathroom floor. "Embry. Sam's not-"

"Sam's fine." Embry hauled him up off the floor, steadying him at the elbow. His brow is still furrowed, still concerned and confused and god damn, Embry's face is an open fucking book. Something is wrong, and he's not telling Paul. But that could be because of Swan, still hovering in the doorway.

Paul grabs a towel off the rack behind the toilet. It's still damp, and smells like Swan, but it's clean enough. The blood comes off in flakes as Paul scrubs at his face. "The leeches?"

Swan's scent goes a little sour, but nothing like it use to at their mention. The face she makes looks more annoyed than anything else. Embry shrugs. "Gone, Sam, Jake and Jared saw them off this morning. Followed them straight to the mountain's edge. They should be back soon."

He let it go, for now. He'd get his answers soon. "So what, are we all going to hang out in the bathroom, or can we move this party along?"

Embry stepped out of the way with a lifted brow. "I'm going to clean this up, actually. Unless you want to do the honors?"

"Sorry. Injured. Can't." He flashed Embry a wide grin, but it didn't wipe the worry of his pack-brothers face. Paul's worried too, but he can't dwell on it. Dwelling won't do him any good.

Swan ushered him into the kitchen, pushing him straight into a chair. It's early still, but his internal clock was screwed. He couldn't tell by the sun, half-bright behind the clouds, and the clock on the wall was never right anyway.

"You should eat." She yanked the fridge open, rummaging through the take-out cartons, and out-dated milk. "Eggs?" She didn't bother to wait for an answer, already piling the many cartons onto the counter. "I should make some for Embry too. I doubt he had dinner."

"Swan," he breathed out, watching her flitter around like a skittish rabbit. It would be funny, except for how it wasn't. She was scared. Of him? For him? Catching her by the waist, Paul reeled her in. "Hey, come on. Calm down."

Melting against him, she reached out to brush her fingers over his freshly healed skin. "You're calling me Swan."

"So?"

Shrugging against him, she trailed her hand up his neck and through his hair. "I don't know. You were calling me Bella earlier."

He had been, which seemed odd now. She'd always been Swan to him, and he liked it that way. "I can call you Bella if you want me too, but I'm not calling you Bells."

At that, she smiled. "You can call me Swan, I don't care." Sighing, she sagged against him, hip pressed up against his chest. He laid his head on her stomach, and hooked a hand into the back pocket of her pants. "Don't scare me like that again."

He could still smell the saline salt on her skin, all those pretty tears. "But you're so pretty when you cry."

She snorted out a laugh, and smacked her hand against his chest. "Don't be a dick."

"You like it when I'm a dick."

"Well I'd have to, wouldn't I? Since you're _always a dick_."

"Let me repeat myself; you like it when I'm a dick."

Something in her face softened, as her smile spread. "Yeah, alright. Maybe I do."

"Well you'd have to, wouldn't you?"

"Jesus, you're worse than Jared and Kim." Embry said, from the bathroom. He had a disgusted but fond smile on his face. "Seriously, stop it. I want to yack. You're disgusting."

"I think you mean awesome." He swept Swan up off her feet, and pulled her right into his lap. "Anyway, don't compare me to that sap. Him, Jake, Sam; that imprinting crap made them _ridiculous_."

Embry frowned. "What did you say?"

Paul lifted his face from where he'd been nuzzling Swan just to make her squirm. She hated PDA, hated it, and Paul just really liked to make her squirm. So that worked. "I said that imprinting crap made grown ass men -with the exception of Jake I guess- act like dip shits. Swan and I?" He bit her shoulder, and grabbed her ass. "We're just this awesome naturally."

"Disgusting," Embry said again, with a pointed look. But something was off, dammit. Paul couldn't figure out what it was. "Ugh. I can tell you two need a fucking moment alone. I'll head up to the border; I'm suppose to let Jared of shift anyway."

"Whatever," Paul called out, watching Embry as he slipped out the back. "If there's a sock on the door when you come back, fuck off! No more cock blocking!"

Swan slapped him again, scent shifting to citrus, all limes and embarrassment. "_Paul_!"

**A/N. **So yeah. That happened. Don't kill me. I'm going somewhere with this, and look, Paul is actually _happy _again. I just wanted him to be happy, and he's happiest when it's just him and Swan.


	21. Palpitations, Abrupt

Palpitations

**ab·rupt**

[uh-bruhp]

_adjective_

or unexpected: an abrupt departure.

Over the breakfast Swan insisted on cooking, Paul frowned. "Was Embry acting weird?"

"Weird? No, I don't think so. He probably just doesn't want to watch you feel me up." She gave him a pointed look, though her cheeks were burning pink. "Why?"

"I don't know; something just seemed off. He'd tell me though, if something serious was up," he added before she could worry, because she _would_. "So it's probably nothing."

"It's not nothing if it has you worried," she argued, with a soft look. Of course she'd worry about him worrying. "Don't just write it off."

Paul snorted, as he bit into his toast. "I didn't say I was worried. I said Embry was acting off."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, whatever. Anyway, maybe he's worried. And he should be! Paul, you _passed out. _He was probably just anxious to see what Sam had to say. What if you're sick? Can you get sick?"

"Not since phasing. I haven't even had a cold. I _feel _fine." And he did, but that didn't mean he wasn't a little concerned. She didn't need to know that though, not with everything else on her plate. "Look, don't get yourself all worked up about it. There's no point in freaking out until we have something to freak out about. Right now, it was just a fluke." He looked at her plate, where she'd eaten _nothing_. "Seriously, I don't want you stressing out about this! You were fine last night, happy you said. Can't we go back to that?"

She took a bite, and pouted for the lack of a better word. "I can't help worrying. I love you."

Paul bit back a grin and ignored the weird, fluttery feeling in his stomach because God dammit, he was not a sap. "What happened to not trusting yourself to say it?"

Huffing out a little laugh, Swan flashed him a half-smile. "What can I say? Finding you in a pool of your own blood was very _motivational_."

For some reason, that hit him harder then the Three Little Words. Instantly, he was taken back to the day in the forest, to the tree. **'**_What motivates you, birdie?' _Then it had been danger, it had been life or death. And now it was... "Oh. _Oh_. Well. I'll...I'll try to do it more often?"

"Please don't," she laughed, swallowing hard. "It's been a long time since I've been that scared for someone that wasn't myself. I mean, I always worry about the Pack, but...seeing you like that. Just. Is that what I did to everyone else? When I was being a complete shit? Is that what Jacob felt like, when you fished me out of the ocean? Because if so...I don't think I can ever be sorry enough. God, I thought you were _dead_. I had this crazy dream, and then I woke up and you were...you were-"

He heard the hitch in her breath, the stutter in the steady beat of her heart, and pushed up from the table instantly. "Hey," he murmured, dropping to his knees beside her. "Remember the rule? It was a good one. Breathing, do it all the time. Come on, none of this. We're past this shit, we're better." He cupped her face, made her look at him. "I'm okay. Look at me, I'm fine."

Her tears slid down his hands, where he held her. She turned away, as if embarrassed, and pressed her mouth to his palm. "I love you, and it scares me because I know how badly it can fucking hurt, and I just can't...I just can't do that again. I keep thinking...how can I let myself do this again? How can I love you so damn much, and them! The Pack, how can I let myself love them like I do when I know...when I know what it's like to lose a family. Because I'm not a wolf, Paul. I'm not a wolf or an imprint, I'm an outsider, and...and..."

"Breathe." He turned her face again, made her look right at him. "You got some shit going on, don't you?" He asked, just like he had then, when she'd made it down the tree. "It's not the same, Birdie."

Swan nodded, tears spilling over her lashes. "But it feels like it could be," she choked out. "I feel like I'm setting myself up to get hurt, but I can't stop myself. I _love _you."

Pulling her right off her chair, he crushed her against him. "Jesus, you've been keeping this all in? You can't do that shit; you gotta talk to me! How can I make shit right, if you don't tell me what the hell is wrong? I love you, B. I've never done this, never let a girl get under my skin like you have. I've got nothing to go on, I don't know how bad it hurts, because I've never had it happen, and that's scary too. I've got no idea how bad you could break me. The best we can do is just...just let it be. Don't dwell on what could happen. You love me, I love you; that's gotta be enough, Birdie. It's all we got."

She kissed him, and it tasted of tears.

Birdie looked good in white. She looked even better on it, splayed out pale against his ivory sheets. Her cheeks were still red where her tears had burned her, but he'd never lied when he told her she was pretty whens he cried. Paul pushed into her propped up on shaky arms and nearly choked on his own breath at how good it felt.

Paul had fucked a lot of girls but apparently it was true what they said; it was different when you loved someone. But then, it could have also been the virginity thing.

Somehow though, he doubted it.

Birdie arched into him, fingers curled into the sheets as her thighs trembled against his hips. Paul held himself still, held his breath, held back the urge to start talking, spilling out every little terrible, sappy, slutty thought tripping through his mind, about what a beautiful _mess _she was.

"Okay," she breathed, moving one hand to grasp at his shoulder. Her palms were damp, his sweat, and hers. "Okay, okay."

It was unsteady; Paul didn't quite know how to be gentle like this. His body jerked against hers, wanting to push forward, wanting to push for more. His muscles were pulled taught, a powerhouse of strength unused, but it was worth it.

Slowly, she relaxed, unraveling beneath him. With every little gasp that escaped her, he pressed a little harder, pushed a little deeper. He fucked her like that, until she asked for more, because if there was one thing Swan didn't know how to do, it was asking for what she wanted.

Paul wanted her to ask, wanted her to take. And maybe, just maybe, a little part of him must wanted to hear her beg.

"Please," she gasped, head thrown back. God, she so was _wet_for him. "Please, you can...I want...God dammit Paul, you won't hurt me."

Paul laughed unexpectedly; that wasn't what he was expecting. But then, Birdie had a way of always surprising him. "Never," he promised, pressing a quick kiss against her mouth, before pushing back, onto his knees.

He pulled her ass into his lap, and fucked her just like that, back pressed against the sheets, her hands grasping at the headboard.

"You broke your bed," Birdie mumbled, from beside him. They were both on their backs, panting and sweaty. Their legs were tangled, and half her hair had made it's way across his face. The blanket was gone, fallen to the floor before the real show had even began, and the sheets were a tangle of fabric beneath him.

Paul stared up at the ceiling, heart still hammering in his chest. "Yes," he said, at length. "Yes I did." The front left leg had snapped when Paul had grabbed the headboard, sending him slamming into her with an almost force.

It worked in their favor though; they both came like a fucking freight train. Honestly, He wasn't sure who made a bigger mess, but considering even his _balls _were wet, he blamed her.

"Stop sounding so smug," Birdie grouched, bumping her leg against his, probably too sore to do anything else.

"But I broke the _bed_." He will feel as smug about this as he wants too, thank you. He broke the fucking bed. "I'm hungry."

Birdie made a noise, half-laugh and half-snort. "Yeah well, you can make your own damn food. I can't even feel my legs." She groaned when Paul grinned. "Now you _look _smug."

"What did I say?" He rolls to his side, awkward on the lopsided bed, and stares down at her. "What did I tell you, B? I promised you I'd fuck you right. Told you I'd rock your world. Said I'd fuck you so hard, you couldn't walk."

She grinned, tired but bright. "Sex is weird. I pretty much did nothing but lay there, but I feel like I've run a marathon and all I want to do is take a nap."

"You did more than just lay on your back." He reached out and brushed the hair clinging to her face. "You screamed a lot, and you even managed to pull my hair. Which for the record, I enjoy greatly."

She flushed, but it was barely seen beneath the post-sex glow. "Now you're just trying to embarrass me. But you know what? You can't, because I've already accepted that as soon as you phase, every wolf in your pack will have seen my o-face, and if I can accept that, nothing else could possibly embarrass me."

"You're so weird." He tugged one of her messy curls, and rolled off the bed into an ungraceful heap on the floor. He wasn't even ashamed; he could barely feel his _own _legs. "You want a sandwich?"

"I want a nap," she muttered. "Seriously, cover me up and go away. I kind of have to pee, but honestly, it's not worth the effort of moving."

Paul laughed, as he grabbed the blanket up off the floor, and tossed it over her. "So can I like...wake you up in an hour or something for round two?" Her being on top was probably out of the question for a while, but he kind of wanted to get her on all fours before the day was over. "I could just prop you up on some pillows or something..."

"Ugh, go away." She made a face, but hesitated. "Let me sleep for like an hour?"

"You know it's like eight-thirty in the morning, right?" Paul asked, as he tugged on his jeans.

"An hour," she repeated. "And yeah if you want to make me a sandwich then, I wouldn't say no."

Embry busted in while Paul was halfway through his second sandwich. He'd only just stepped into the kitchen, when his nose scrunched up. "Jesus Christ."

Paul grinned around a mouth full of rye. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

"You could have at least done up your pants," Embry grumbled, as he leaned over the kitchen sink, to open the window. "You are the absolute worst. Why now?"

"Why not now? We've been dancing around each other forever, and frankly I would have fucked her before, but someone cock-blocked me. Anyway, where's Sam?"

"Running patrols," Jacob said, stepping into the kitchen with the same scrunched-up look. "Holy hell."

Paul took another bite, and said nothing.

"Seriously," Jacob continued. "If your scents weren't merged before, this would have fucking done it. Did you even use a fucking condom? What the hell, Paul."

He shrugged. "She's on pill, or the shot or whatever." Irritated, Paul scowled at Jacob. It wasn't his business. "What's it to you how I fuck my girlfriend, Jake?"

"Girlfriend." Jacob stared at him, eyes drifting between Paul and Embry. "Girlfriend?"

"See! I told you!" Embry threw up his hands. "Sam should have come."

"He couldn't," Jacob snapped, with more bite in it than was absolutely necessary. "You know why."

"Yeah, but I don't. What the fuck, guys?" Paul glanced at the bedroom door, before gesturing them all into the living room. "What aren't you telling me? Embry said everything went fine with the damn leeches."

"It did." Jacob hesitated. "Paul, what do you remember about the leech that kidnapped Bella? What do you remember about that day?"

Paul stared at him for a long moment, but it was obvious he wasn't going to get a real answer. "We were at my dads, the bitch took Birdie right out of the car. We chased her, got Back. But those fucking Cullens were hanging out around her place. There was a newborn-" He cut himself off with a growl. "What the hell does this matter? You know what happened."

"What happened after we all met up with the Cullens? " Jacob asked slowly. "After you brought Bella back to your place?"

"We...we were...and then I...left." Paul blinked, mouth pulling into a frown. "It was raining and I...I passed out in the mud? You and Sam found me? We...fought." He'd attacked Sam. The memories were vague, though they should have been fresh. "Why didn't I remember that earlier?"

"We don't know." Jacob dug his hands into his pockets, and sighed deeply. "But whatever it was, your wolf tried to kill Sam.

"I don't remember that," Paul said slowly, fear itching beneath his skin. What else was he missing? "I don't remember any of that. What else?"

Embry's eyes shifted toward to Jacob, who shook his head. "No- "

Paul growled, wolf curling awake inside of him. "No? What the fuck do you mean no? It's about me, I deserve to know."

"It isn't that simple!" Jacob snapped, hands clenching. His eyes darted towards Paul's bedroom door, where Swan was already fast asleep. "It isn't just about you."

"What the hell does she have to do with my wolf?" As he spoke the words, his wolf roared within him, feral and without word. He felt himself shake, fingers trembling with the promise of a shift.

He couldn't stop it. Couldn't shake it from his bones. In a whirl, he was out the door, sprinting across the muddy back yard. The phase caught him off-guard and mid-stride. He shifted into a tumble, pawed limbs sprawling gracelessly across the wet grass, as images slammed into him, memories not his own.

Remembering, and forgetting. Sam. Jacob. Bella. There were many of them, all technicolor and too-sharp, but the one that rang out the most was thus;

"_I imprinted on Bella."_

It stabbed at him, sharp like knives. Paul's own voice, declaring the impossible to Sam. Sam accepting it without so much as a blink. Because it made sense, because he'd thought so. But that wasn't right, Paul had said. Because he'd _just _imprinted on Swan. Except he hadn't.

He hadn't.

Imprint after imprint, it had happened time and again. The memories were spartan, bland, and fuzzy. Obvious pieces were missing. Like it couldn't stick, couldn't hold. But that wasn't right. It was more like a wall had grown between the imprint and himself, and it was fighting, alway fighting, to make itself known, but never ever succeeding.

Knowing changed nothing. Feeling himself through Sam's eyes, feeling what he felt as he stuttered out the words...it felt no different than now. He _loved _Birdie, imprint or not.

Loving her now, loving her then; there was no difference.

The imprint hadn't been given the chance to warp his views, to sway his decision. If it had brought her to him, or him to her, it hadn't made him fall in love. It couldn't.

He'd done that on his own.

Phasing back, Paul stared up into the cloudy, morning sky. Sam stood at the edge of the yard, half hidden behind the trees. "You shouldn't have done that," he said quietly.

"You told Jacob to keep me from phasing." That memory had been hazy, half-hidden behind the Alpha power, but...the onslaught was too deep, and the command to fresh. "Because you know what's wrong with me."

Crossing the yard, Sam sat down in the mud beside Paul, his face washed in guilt and 's wolf growled, but nothing else.

"It's an Alpha order," he admitted. "Whatever's happening to you, it's because of an Alpha Order. That's why it hurt. I don't know how, or when, but something I said...did this. Made you forget. Made you suffer."

Paul didn't like the shake in his Alpha's voice. It smacked of weakness, and that seemed wrong to him. Sam was a mountain of strength and guidance. "It's okay now though; I remember."

"But for how long?" Sam looked at him, eyes keen and worried. "The last time, hearing the word imprint made you choke on your own blood. Like the word alone broke whatever order I threw at you. How long until you forget all of this again, Paul? Whatever I did, I have to fix it."

"You're relinquishing your right to Alpha." It wasn't a question. Paul had seen it in Sam's mind. "You're handing the reins over to Baby Jake."

"He has to fight me, and win. I think he could. I hope he can." Sam sighed. "All injunctions I placed will be lifted, when the power transfers."

Paul looked to the house, where Jake was fidgeting restlessly in the kitchen. "Don't do it yet. Maybe I can remember. I mean, this has been happening for...for a while. Since the beginning? You would have known, otherwise, right? If I had imprinted on Swan before the Order, you would have known."

"You never told me you did," Sam admitted. "But that doesn't mean it didn't happen. You did imprint, without me knowing."

"But does it count? I didn't even know," Paul argued. "Just...don't do anything, yet. Give me time to work it out. It must have happened in the beginning. So I just...have to go back. I have to figure out the first time I imprinted, and go from there."

Sam stared at him for a long moment. "It would be easier to have Jacob lift all my orders."

"Neither of you want that yet." Paul looked away, and stared at his bedroom window. The curtains were drawn, but even from here, he could hear Swan's heart beat. "If there's another way, a way no one has to suffer-"

"No one but you," Sam interjected. "Paul, it isn't right that you be...you be disconnected from your imprint like this-"

"But I don't feel disconnected!" Paul shook his head. "I don't feel any different from the way I felt when I first told you I imprinted. Nothing feels different. So give me this; if I forget again, do it your way. But for now...let it be."

Sam's gaze softened, and Paul squirmed. "You don't always have to take a hit for the pack. Sometimes, it's okay to let others bear the weight."

"I don't know how to do anything else," Paul said, with too much honesty. "And I wouldn't want to, if I did. This is who I am. I get my hands dirty, I-"

"Take care of your brothers?" Sam asked, with a smile. "Yeah, you do. And you're good at it. Just...you don't always have to suffer."

Blinking, Paul scowled. Feelings. It always fucking came down to talking about feelings. "I don't feel like I'm suffering. I love her; that's enough for me."

**A/N **I just watched The Croods, so at the end of this chapter, a tiny high-pitched Sloth voice in my head went DUN DUN DUNNNNNN.

But hey, this is progress, right? Also ew, feelings.

OH! And before I forget, one of you lovely people nominated me for a Royal Author Award in the Non Canon awards. Seriously people, you are awesome. Vote for me, if you get a chance. Just google Non Canon Awards, and it'll take you right to the blog. Thank you kindly!


	22. Dear Readers

Hello darlings,

Firstly I'd like to apologize that this isn't an update. Feel free to boo and throw rotten food at your convenience. This is a letter written as a courtesy to all my faithful readers and reviewers. You guys are an amazing bunch. You've cheerleaded me into something I've never really experienced before: pride. It's a humbled pride: I would have never continued to write without the constant support of a very amazing group of people; you, my readers.

I'm writing this letter to tell you that I am taking a hiatus from fanfiction. Three months, most likely. I will be back; I've never left a story unfinished, and all of you who know me, know this to be true. My two current ongoing fics, as well as my previously postponed fic, will have endings. And I daresay, I have a few other fics in the works, as well. No, I'm certainly not done.

But, until then, I am embarking on a new and frankly terrifying journey. Something I've been toying with, something I've mentioned. Something I've yet to really take seriously.

I'm writing a book.

I know. I know. Every Mary-Sue and her mother says the same thing. And many a fanfic writer, as well. Not that we'll name names.

I'm one of them, I guess. I'm writing a book. I've got ideas, I've got words, I've got a whole brilliant world inside my head, and now I want to get that onto paper.

And I'd have never even considered it, without you dear readers.

So, this letter is my apology, and my thank you. It's not a good bye. I won't suddenly vanish from the fandom. You people are too good to me. Because let's face it, the instant-gratification of fanfic is a lure to great for me. I enjoy writing it, too much to give it up. In fact, the absolute ego-stroking that is writing fanfiction has probably lead me to a false sense of security, and if I should finish this book, I no doubt will be eaten alive by criticism (you all know how terrible I am at taking bad criticism, I don't deny it, I'm a whiny baby). But I find that it's worth it, to put myself out there. And that's all because of you guys.

So thank you, and I shall see you in September!

-Lyndsey


End file.
